To The Ends of The Earth
by only-some-loser
Summary: There was no tree blocking the road, and Jack was too far behind the robbers to stop them from escaping the island with the two million and MacGyver. Now, Jack has to find and rescue his partner before it's too late. (tag to 2x21, Wind Water)
1. The Marina

****AN: This is the forty-second installment of my personal challenge to write a tag for every episode. This is a tag to 2x21, Wind + Water, and it is also my first multi-chapter fic! I've been planning this fic for a really long time (like since the ep aired) and it's going to get dark, but not as dark as some of my previous tags. I'm not sure what my updating schedule is going to be, but you can probably expect at least one chapter per week after I finish the rest of the tags and write the follow-ups to those that have been requested (i.e., Jailhouse Blues, The Zodiac Strikes Back, Of Bear Traps and Gentle Hands, and Rough Hands). I will most likely be posting all of those followups in that order before I post the next chapter of this. But, I am very excited to write this. I know this first chapter kind of sucks, but I promise the rest of it will be much better. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!****

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Mac had no idea what he was going to do. He couldn't crash the car without getting himself shot in the process, and he wasn't in a position to be making any demands. All he could do was pray that Jack found him before the robbers made it off the island. It wasn't looking likely. He hadn't seen any other cars at all, or even any planes or choppers that might've been sent to look for him. For the first time in his life, Mac was angry that the roads were clear. In most cases, traffic and hazards in the road were a nuisance, but right now, Mac would've given anything for a tree across the road. But of course, he could never be so lucky.

"Turn at this marina, or your life ends now," the man with the gun said, the weapon still held against him. Mac did as he was told, his heart rate increasing more every second as his escape became less and less likely. He parked in the sparse lot, and turned towards the robber.

"Happy now?" he asked. "I got you to the marina, so you can let me go."

"You're not in a position to be making demands, boy," the robber said, pressing the gun even harder against Mac's temple. "You're ours now, just as much as the money is." The man turned his head to the other men but didn't release pressure on the gun. "Get the rope," he said. "If you move, I'll put a bullet in you."

Mac briefly closed his eyes and took a breath. He needed to remain calm if he was going to escape. The men in the back of the car got out, and one of them opened the door on the driver's side. Mac took a glance at him, and didn't resist when the man grabbed his hands from the steering wheel and harshly tied them in front of him. The man fed another rope through Mac's tied hands and held onto the end. He reached over to unbuckle Mac's seatbelt, then pulled him out of the car by the makeshift leash.

Eyeing the rope, Mac hoped he could use it to his advantage. It was long enough that if he could manage to surprise the man holding the end of it, he could wrap it around the man's throat and make him become the hostage instead. The man harshly pulled Mac along the dock and onto the first boat they came across, which happened to be a small yacht.

"I know you know how to hot wire a boat, so you better do it now," the lead robber said. Mac realized he still didn't know any of their names. He raised up his bounds hands with a look in his eyes that was both intensely annoyed and completely dumbfounded. "You're a smart kid. I'm sure you could even do it with your hands behind your back," the man said, taking a few more steps towards Mac and leveling the gun at his chest. Both turned back towards the road at the sight of another car speeding down. It had to be Jack. Mac couldn't contain his smile at the sight. Jack would save him, it was going to be okay. "Take him down there, _now_!" the man shouted at his fellow robber who was holding the rope. He quickly made his way down to the helm, dragging Mac behind him. The blond struggled against the pull, trying to stay out in the open where he knew Jack would see him. He could hear the car pulling into the marina, but he couldn't see it. The man had been able to pull him down into the yacht.

"Get this boat going now, or you'll be watching your friends die." The man pulled out his gun and trained it on Mac. Another one of the men came down and walked right up to Mac, giving a swift punch to the cheekbone to emphasize the situation.

Mac knew his friends were outmanned and outgunned. There was nothing he could do but start the boat and pray Jack and the others wouldn't get themselves killed. Mac briefly thought of his earlier idea to use the rope to strangle one of the men, but he knew it wouldn't work in the long run. They would call his bluff and kill his friends. But he would gladly give up his freedom for them.

His mind made up, Mac quickly got to the floor and started the boat as quickly as he could hot wire a car. As the yacht fluttered to life, Mac was pushed to the side by the man whose face was still blue, who took the helm. Using the distraction to his advantage, he made a last ditch effort to escape. No one was looking at him, so he quietly - yet quickly - got up and went to the top deck. He could hear the gunshots as the men fired at his friends.

Mac needed to know that Jack was still alive, and he needed Jack to know that he was still alive. Making a jump for it was the only thing Mac could think to do. But of course, luck was not on his side. The boards of the boat creaked loudly beneath him as he reached the deck, giving away his position to the man closest to him. He tried to jump for it anyway, but the man managed to catch the rope and pull him to the ground.

"Jack!" he shouted. He just needed to hear his voice, needed to know that his partner was okay before he taken away. It didn't look like he was getting out of this, at least not any time soon.

"Mac!" Jack shouted back. He was still alive. They hadn't killed him. That was all Mac needed to know. He stopped struggling quite as much, knowing that no matter what happened, Jack would never stop searching for him. His partner would go to the ends of the earth to find him, of that Mac was certain.

That knowledge in mind, Mac felt his fear lessening, despite the fact that the boat had pulled away and Jack's panicked shouts were sounding fainter. Everything was going to be okay. He would figure out a way to escape once they got to their destination, and even if he couldn't, Jack would find him. Jack always found him.


	2. Regrouping

****AN: Welcome to chapter two of my first ever multi-chapter fic! This is a momentous occasion for me so I hope you're all proud. For now, the updating schedule should work like this: I publish one chapter of this, then two follow ups to my tags that were requested, then another chapter of this, and so on. I'm not sure how often I'll be publishing anything, but it should be a few times per week. However, don't expect them quite as often as I whipped out those episode tags. This chapter is a little boring, but it's necessary. The next chapter will pick back up with Mac, I promise. I got the names for the robbers by combining the names given on IMDb with the names of the actors. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!****

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Jack kept the pedal pressed down as far as he dared. He needed to get to Mac before the robbers escaped the island. There was no telling what they would do to the kid once they escaped, because it wasn't as if they would just let him go. The most likely scenario is that they would kill him, which was the worst scenario in Jack's book.

"Up there!" Riley shouted, pointing out at the marina. From the road at the top of the hill, they could see the robbers on a small yacht, and Jack caught a brief glimpse of Mac before they pulled the kid below deck.

"I see 'em," Jack growled, bringing the car down the hill as quickly as he dared, and swerving into the marina. The gunfire started before he was even out of the car. "Take cover!" he shouted to Riley and Bozer, hoping the two would take his warning and duck. He, meanwhile, got out of the car and started to return fire. The men managed to get several shots on the car, hitting the windshield, but they were likely running out of ammo with how often they were firing. Jack hoped he could bide his time and shoot once they were out.

"Jack!" came Mac's shout from the yacht. Jack heard him fall to the floor - or, more likely, be tackled to the floor - and got out from behind his cover.

"Mac!" he shouted back, glad to hear that his partner was still alive, at least for the time being. He shouted the kid's name again when he saw the yacht start to pull away from the marina. Jack let out a barrage of bullets into the yacht, but it didn't slow it down. It was pulling away, and taking Mac along with it. "Mac!" he shouted again, hoping to hear his partner's voice again, but to no avail. All Jack could do was watch in panic as the yacht pulled away. He swore loudly and kicked the ground, dropping his gun and running his hands through his sparse hair. The robbers were gone, and they took his kid with them.

Jack picked up his gun and holstered it, pulling out his phone instead. He quickly found Matty's name called her. She answered on the first ring.

"Tell me you've got our boy back," she demanded.

"They took him, Matty. The robbers are gone and they took Mac with them. They stole a small yacht and are already halfway to the horizon. We need choppers out there _now_ , to follow them," Jack said without any hesitation.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from his boss before she answered, "you know we can't get a chopper out there, or even a plane or a boat. Not in time to find them at least. They chose Puerto Rico because they knew resources were scarce."

"Then how the hell are we supposed to find him? I'm not leaving my kid out there alone again, there's no way in hell we just abandon him. That poor kid's been abandoned too many times in his life, and I'm not gonna add to that, Matty. I won't do it."

"You can have Riley try to track the yacht, but that's about all we can do. I'm sorry, Jack. I want to get him back too, but we need to be realistic. I'll brief Oversight on the situation and get back to you," Matty said, her voice thick with emotion. She hung up without so much as a goodbye.

"Riley, how we comin' on tracin' that boat?" Jack asked, spinning around to face the truck. Both Riley and Bozer had gotten out once the gunfire stopped. Riley rested her rig on the hood while Bozer rested his hand on her shoulder.

Riley looked up at him with fear in her eyes before answering, "it's a yacht in the middle of the ocean. Not that easy to track, and there aren't any satellites overhead. I can, however, find out who's yacht they stole and find all the specs on it. Then, we can put out a BOLO on it and hopefully, find it as soon as it makes port." Riley broke eye contact, sighing. "That's all I can do in terms of tracing it."

Jack let out a deep breath and nodded. He knew it wasn't Riley's fault, and he didn't want his anger at Mac's kidnapping to come out at her. She was trying her best. They all wanted Mac home safe and sound.

"What about the robbers?" Bozer asked. "What can we find out about them? If we can figure out who they are, maybe we can figure out where they might be headed." Bozer looked at Jack with a bit of hope in his eyes. They could still find those bastards who took Mac. Yeah, this wasn't their normal gig - running a criminal investigation that is - but it's not as if they were just going to sit back and let the Puerto Rican feds handle it. They already knew that if they did that, Mac was as good as dead.

"Good thinkin', Boze. Now, let's get back to base camp and get their pics runnin' through facial rec. Once we know who they are, we can find out where they've been, and just maybe, where they're going."

Jack hopped back into the driver's seat and leaned forward. He took his gun out and pistol whipped the windshield, effectively shattering the rest of it and breaking it off. It would have been too difficult to see through if he had left it up. Once all the glass was thrown out, Riley and Bozer climbed back in. Luckily, the the car would still run.

Quickly enough - but not in Jack's opinion - they were back at the police HQ where they would run the investigation from. Jack, Riley, and Bozer quickly commandeered an empty conference room and turned it into a makeshift war room. Riley's rig had a place on the long table, and cork boards and a flatscreen tv lined the walls. It wasn't much, but it was all they were going to get in Puerto Rico. It wasn't as if they could go back to Phoenix HQ in LA. Yeah, the island they were on was the one place they were sure Mac wasn't, but it was still closer to him than LA.

"Facial rec is running on all four robbers. We should have IDs in a few minutes. Wait, the first one's back now." Jack and Bozer crowded around Riley and her laptop, looking at the screen. On it was a picture of a man with unkempt brown hair and a short beard. "This is Ash Jenkins. He's been arrested for petty theft twice, and he's from Detroit. He dropped out of college, and there's no employment records or address listed," Riley said with a frown. Still, this was better than nothing. At least they had a name, and they would soon get more.

A minute later, Riley called them back over with more info on the other robbers.

"I have the rest of them. The ringleader seems to be Marc Booth, who has armed robbery and attempted murder on his rap sheet. He's been a fugitive for the past two years..." Riley trailed off, looking at Jack in worry. He nodded morosely and motioned for her to continue her search. There were no records of him since he fell off the map two years ago. "The guy with the buzz cut is Michael Pike. He doesn't have a record, but he has been wanted in connection to illegal dark web activity. No one was ever able to make anything stick on him. It says he used to work in IT before he quit six months ago, and he disappeared once the lease on his apartment was up. The last guy is Dean Baird. He has several petty theft charges, but nothing big. He's also from Detroit, and seems to have followed the same path as Jenkins." Riley let out a small breath when she finished. Jack rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed in an attempt to give her just a little bit of comfort.

"Nice job, Riles, way to go. That's a lot more intel than we had five minutes ago, and I'm sure we can use it to help us find Mac," Jack said with a small smile.

All he cared about was finding that kid. He couldn't care less about the $2 million. He just needed his kid back, safe and sound. Who knows what they were doing with Mac, or even if he was even alive. No, Jack couldn't think like that. Of course Mac was still alive, he was Mac. He would find a way to escape and get back to them. He always did.

Jack began pouring through all the information they could find on the robbers while Bozer made sure a BOLO got out on the yacht. They were able to identify it and make sure the surrounding islands were all aware. The moment it pulled into a marina, they would be alerted.

The silence in the room was broken by Jack's phone. It was Matty.

"Please, give me some good news," Jack pleaded the moment he answered.

"Sadly, it's not that good," Matty said. "I spoke with Oversight and made sure he was completely aware of the entire situation. He said that he would not give up valuable resources for the life of one agent who he believes is likely already beyond saving. I'm sorry, Jack," Matty said in a small voice, for once, sounding unsure.

"Damn it, Matty, he's not just an agent, he's Mac!"

"Trust me, Oversight knows that better than most, but since none of this happened on a mission anyway, he will not use Phoenix resources to try to find him. I promise I will do everything I can, but it's up to you guys. If you can't find him, I'm afraid MacGyver is gone."

Jack took a breath before answering. If he could, he would have some very choice words for this Oversight. Clearly the man had no idea what it was like to have his kid taken from him.

"We're gonna find him. I swear on my father's grave that I will bring that boy home." With that, Jack hung up. Closing his eyes and taking another breath, Jack went back to pouring through files on the robbers, looking for anything that might help them. Mac needed them, and Jack was not about to let him down.


	3. Drugged

****AN: There's not too much I have to say here, other than that it starts to get darker from here on out, but there's nothing too bad in this chapter though. Don't worry, it will never get as dark as Jailhouse Blues or Rough Hands, so nothing to worry about there. I rewatched Wind + Water today in order to better write the robbers, and I noticed that there's actually five robbers, and not four like I had originally thought. I really don't feel like going back and adding more about the fifth robber to chapter two, so we're just going to ignore that little continuity error, okay? Okay. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!****

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Mac barely held back a grunt of pain as he was roughly dragged to his feet by his hair. The man kept a firm grip on him while pushing back below decks.

"What do we do with him? The little brat was trying to escape." The man accentuated his words by pulling back on Mac's hair again, exposing his neck.

"Tie him up over there," the leader said, motioning towards the corner of the room. The man holding him pushed him over and kicked the back of his knees, forcing him to the ground with a grunt. There was a railing along each wall to provide support in the case of seasickness, but in this case it would be used as somewhere to tie Mac. His hands were secured to it above his head, rendering him unable to do anything but sit there. Mac tried to pull on the ropes a little bit, but there was no slack. Within the few inches he could move his fingers, there was nothing he could grab onto to either cut the ropes or loosen them. Glancing around him, he noticed there was nothing he could pull over to himself that would be of any use either. Mac let his head fall back against the wall. He was well and truly stuck. It usually didn't work, but he could always try reasoning with the men.

"I've already helped you escape with two million dollars. What else could you possibly want from me?" Mac asked in genuine confusion. He honestly had no idea what they wanted him for now.

"Oh trust me, kid. We'll think of something," the leader said. Mac rolled his eyes. What a cliche response. The leader looked from Mac to his man with a buzz cut. "Hey, Pike, shut him up. I don't wanna listen to his yappin' all the way there."

The man - Pike, evidently - nodded and produced a bandana from his back pocket. He walked over to Mac and quickly straddled him to avoid getting kicked. Frankly, it was probably a wise move on Pike's part, Mac had to admit. Still, that didn't make it any less uncomfortable. Despite Mac's struggles, Pike quickly tied the bandana around the blond's mouth, effectively gagging him. Mac just glared at the man.

All Mac could do was wait. There was no way he was getting out of the ropes on his own, so hopefully he could make a break for it once they arrived at their destination, wherever that was. Mac's thoughts turned to Jack. The man was probably frantic with worry by now. He knew boats were hard to track, which definitely wouldn't help give Jack peace of mind. He just had to pray that somehow, Riley would be able to track it. If anyone could, it was her.

Mac let his head rest against the wall, and tried to calm his racing thoughts. It would be better if he could focus on what the men who had taken him were saying.

"It should be night by the time we get there, which should help us," the leader was saying. He didn't seem to care whether or not Mac heard him, but just to be safe, the blond tried to make it look like he wasn't paying attention. "We'll get the money and the kid to the safe house, and plan our next move from there."

Mac could work with that information. If they would be there something during the night, that meant they had to be traveling somewhere close by. They'd only chosen a yacht, which can't be sustained in open ocean for very long, which aided in that point. Mac thought of all the close by islands and tried to figure out which one the robbers had chosen. Doing some simple math, Mac was able to figure out the most likely island they were heading for: Culebra. While technically still a part of Puerto Rico, it was far enough away and had a low enough population that it would be a perfect getaway for some criminals. The men had said they had a safe house ready, which meant that they'd been planning on fleeing to Culebra. That was likely a bad thing for Mac, because it meant that they could be staying there for an indefinite amount of time.

So back to waiting it was. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up on him, and he started to doze off. By the time he awoke, he could see the stars through the windows. It was beautiful. The lack of light pollution allowed the night sky to be beautifully lit up by stars and nebulas and planets and galaxies. Mac never got to see the sky like that in LA. It was certainly something he missed from Mission City.

"We're about to dock. Ash, get the kid ready to go," the leader said from the helm, talking over his shoulder at the man Mac had sprayed with the dye packs.

"My pleasure, Booth," the man said with a sadistic smile. Ash moved from where he was leaning against the wall and grabbed the messenger bag in the corner. He dug through it and chuckled when he found what he was looking for. The man slid something into his pocket, but Mac couldn't make out what it was. He then stood back and stepped into the adjoining bathroom, turning on the water. Ash came back out a minute later with a cup of water, and crouched by Mac.

"You're gonna drink this," he said, pulling away Mac's gag. Mac eyed the water warily. All of his instincts were screaming at him that it was drugged. It didn't smell any different or look any different, but a lot of drugs didn't change the liquid much. Mac's guess was that it was some kind of benzodiazepine, most likely flunitrazepam - rohypnol. They were trying to roofie him.

"Not gonna happen," Mac replied with a glare. He couldn't make a break for it if he was unconscious.

"Let me rephrase," the man said. "You're gonna drink this, or you're gonna start losing your fingers. How does that sound?"

Mac didn't say anything, but continued to glare at the man. He knew he was fighting a losing battle, but he would be damned if he made things easy for his captors. Ash groaned in annoyance and quickly straddled Mac like Pike had done in order to best keep him immobile. Mac fought back as best he could, but it was of no use. The man gripped his nose and held it shut, forcing Mac to open his mouth to breath. Once he finally did, Ash poured the drugged water into Mac's mouth, and forced him to swallow. He laughed after Mac gave in to his body's need for air. Ash patted Mac on the cheek and stood up.

"Sweet dreams," he chuckled. Mac was right, they had drugged him to make him easier to transport. He fought against the drug's pull, but within a few minutes, he fell into the black abyss.

* * *

Mac started to come to slowly. He wasn't sure what exactly they had given him, but it couldn't have been rohypnol. It was likely similar to the nightshade Murdoc had used on him several months earlier, which was why everything was so impaired. Rohypnol didn't do that once the subject woke up. Mac's vision was blurry and he couldn't quite make out his surroundings, but he could see people standing around him, and he knew he was standing up. He tried moving his arms but he couldn't. His hands were strung above his head and secured to a pipe that ran under the low ceiling. Mac's head lolled and he tried to focus his vision, but to no avail. He could hear the men talking around him, but he couldn't make out exactly what they were saying.

"...shirt off," he made out one of the men say. Was it Pike? He couldn't really tell. Hands were suddenly on his body, tearing off his shirt. Mac let out a groan at the action, but was incapable of saying anything. What were they doing? He tried to lash out with his feet, but he couldn't move them either. Mac let his head fall to his bare chest, and tried to focus on his feet. They weren't tied like his hands were, which meant that it was the effects of the drug that he couldn't really move them. But that wasn't what struck him by surprise. Mac wasn't wearing shoes, or socks, or pants. He felt a wave of panic go through him at the fact that he was in that room with all of those men in only his boxers, but he couldn't do anything with it. His body wasn't producing nearly as much cortisol as it normally would in this situation - again, likely an effect of the drug.

"Perfect, now he's ready," one of the men said. Mac thought it was Booth, the leader, but he couldn't be sure.

He heard something click to the left of him. A camera? Mac tried to turn towards the noise, and was able to focus just enough to see that yes, it was a camera. Pike was taking pictures of him while he was tied up and only in his boxers. That couldn't have been a good thing. As much as he would've liked to, Mac couldn't fight back when Pike gripped his chin with his hand and brought the camera right up to his face. He could only glare.

"Come on, show those pretty blue eyes. They're gonna be one of your biggest selling points, boy," the man said. Selling points? What did Pike mean? The man continued to take pictures, going all around Mac's body and getting up close and personal wherever he liked. Within a few minutes, he was done. "Alright, boss, I think I have all I need for now. We can take him down and tie him to the wall."

Pike put down the camera and once again there were hands on his body, only this time, they were holding him steady as one of the men untied his hands from the pipe. This would've been the perfect moment to lash out and flee, but Mac was still too drugged to even speak, let alone try to fight and run. In the end, they lowered Mac to the ground and dragged him over to the wall. His hands were once again secured, this time tied to a loop protruding from the wall.

The wall was cold against his bare back - were they really not going to clothe him again? - and the bricks were rough on his skin. He was in a basement of some kind. As Mac's bearings started slowly returning to him, he noticed a wooden staircase leading up to a single door. That was the only way in or out. The rest of the basement was bare, save for a bucket in the far corner of the small room. The basement itself was only about seven feet high - aside from the staircase, over which the ceiling followed the stairs up. It was about nine feet wide and fifteen feet long. Not a big room.

"He might fetch us more than the robbery did," one of the men said as they made their way up the stairs. Mac heard the distinctive sound of the door locking as the men exited. He was stuck, once again.

Mac's mind slowly cleared more and more, and he began to ponder what those men were talking about. His blue eyes were a selling point? He would give them money? Why had they been taking pictures of him almost naked? As Mac's mind cleared more and more, he finally figured it out with a sharp intake of breath. These weren't just small time criminals who had decided to commit back robbery and kidnapping. They were human traffickers who were going to sell him on the dark web to the highest bidder. That's why he'd been stripped nearly naked, that's why Pike had taken close up pictures of his body. The man was taking inventory of his stock, of his _p_ _rize_.

Not for the first time throughout the day, Mac prayed again for Jack to find him. He didn't know how long it would take for them to sell him, but he knew he didn't have all the time in the world. Jack needed to hurry up, and get there _f_ _ast_.


	4. Hours Before Sunrise

****AN: I know this chapter is super short, and for that I apologize, but today has been a crazy day. That being said, it begs the question, would you guys rather have more frequent updates with shorter chapters, or less frequent updates with longer chapters. I will do whichever the majority votes for. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!****

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"Please tell me one of you has a lead on Mac, just something, _a_ _nything_ ," Jack pleaded in frustration. They'd all been pouring over file after file well past midnight, and despite their fatigue, no one wanted to stop looking for Mac, even just to get some sleep.

"Well, our BOLO still hasn't come back, which means they're either still on the water or they didn't dock in a marina," Riley replied with a frown.

Jack closed his eyes, nodding. He let out a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Of course they were going to find Mac. It was going to be okay, it always turned out okay.

"Wait..." Bozer said, trailing off. "Wait a minute, I have an idea." He paused while Jack and Riley quickly turned to him expectantly. "The ones with the criminal records must have lawyers, right? So maybe one of them is close enough with their lawyer to have let it slip where he's got a safe house or something."

"Good thinkin', Boze. Riley, can you find out if any of them had a close relationship with their lawyer?" Jack asked, getting up and walking towards the hacker. He put on hand on the table and the other on the edge of the chair as he leaned over Riley's shoulder.

"Already ahead of you," Riley said with a smirk as her fingers flew over the keyboard. "Marc Booth, the most violent of the crooks, has always had the same lawyer, some guy named Zachary Kline. It says here the guy's based out of San Francisco." Riley turned away from the laptop to look up at Jack.

"Get him on the phone, now," he said.

"Uhh, I may be new at this compared to you guys," Bozer interjected, "but I'm pretty sure waking up Mr. Lawyer at an ungodly hour of the night is not exactly the way to get us on his good side. I mean, we're gonna have to be on his good side, right? Since telling us where Booth might have a safe house would technically be breaking attorney-client confidentiality."

Jack was silent, but he knew Bozer was right. In order to identify themselves as federal agents, they would have to get approval from Oversight, which they clearly didn't have. Frankly, Jack couldn't have cared less about Oversight or the repercussions of breaking protocol if it meant saving his kid, but Bozer had a point otherwise. They couldn't wake the man up at that time of morning and expect cooperation.

"As soon as the sun rises in San Francisco I want him on the phone," Jack growled. Doing some simple math - he chuckled to himself, Mac would be proud - he was able to calculate that sunrise in San Francisco was around 6:30am, local time. Due to the time difference, that was about 9:30am in Puerto Rico, which was still six hours away. That was six hours that those men could be doing who knows what to Mac. It was the only lead they had at the moment, but it wasn't a very good one.

"I'll get him for you, Jack. I promise," Riley said, looking up at Jack, her big hazel eyes pouring into his brown ones. "We're gonna get him back." Jack could see the fear in her eyes mixing with the resolve, until only resolve remained. They were going to find Mac, or die trying.

Jack nodded again and rested his hand on Riley's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"Okay, so we don't know where they're going yet, but can we figure out where they've been? Riley, can you backtrack the car they arrived at the bank in?" Jack asked, a little bit of hope back in his voice.

"I can try," Riley responded with a grimace. "Security cameras in post-Maria Puerto Rico aren't quite the same as they are back in LA, but I can probably at least track them until they're out of San Juan." Riley went back to furiously typing on her rig while Jack moved over to give Bozer room beside them. "Okay, there's the car, and they already had Carlos with them, but I can check the surrounding streets for cameras." Riley stopped, focusing on what she was doing for a moment while Jack and Bozer just nodded their heads behind her. After a few more moments, Riley stopped. "This is gonna take more than a few minutes, so how about you guys get us some more coffee or take a nap or just do something else other than watching over my shoulder," she said.

Jack couldn't help but smile as he held his hands up and walked away. Riley's sass was back, which felt a bit more normal.

"I'm on it," Bozer said, walking out the door in search of coffee. He already knew what the three of them would order. Jack went back to pouring over the files in search of something, anything, that might stand out and give them a lead. He would take freaking breadcrumbs at this point, just anything that would bring Mac back to him. Thinking about what those men might be doing to the poor kid was out of the question, but also unavoidable. Jack couldn't help it when his mind trailed back towards Mac. He could only hope that the kid was okay.


	5. Escape Attempt

**AN: I have decided to write longer chapters with longer breaks in between. A lot of people voted for that, and I think that's what would be easiest for me as the writer. Thank you to all of you who gave me your opinion! Part of this chapter is heavily inspired by Lucas Till's movie "Crush". If you've seen that movie, you'll know the exact moment I'm referring to. If you haven't seen it, you need to. It's honestly really good. I'm going to be out of town from Friday-Monday, but I am going to try to write as much as I can while I'm away. However, I cannot guarantee when you'll get the next update, but, it should still be sometime next week. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

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Mac tried for the nine hundred and fifty-seventh time to loosen his bonds. Just like the nine hundred and fifty-six times beforehand, it accomplished nothing but make his wrists hurt even more. The knots were tied well, and there was nothing he could cut them with. Mac sighed. He was stuck there until someone untied him.

For the past several hours, Mac had been trying to wiggle out of the ropes, but it was time he finally stopped. He was only making his wrists bleed. Sadly, the men had not return his clothes, leaving him shivering the basement, only in his boxers. They hadn't returned at all, and Mac was starting to wonder if they planned on ever giving him any water. He would take the water, but he could live without food for a while. The purpose of the bucket in the corner was pretty obvious, but in order to be at all useful, they would have to untie him. That would be his chance. When they finally returned and untied him, he would act like he would cooperate, maybe even act like he was still drugged a little. Once they were about to tie him up again, he would strike, and make a run for it. It was a stupid plan, and he likely wouldn't make it out, but it was the best plan he had. It wasn't as if he could wait for Jack to find him.

All Mac could do was wait. He spent a lot of time thinking about theoretical physics and quantum field generators. He counted each and every brick that made up the room, twice - there were seven hundred and thirty-two. He even hummed and whistled to himself a little bit. There was no way around it. Mac was bored. Without anything to stimulate either his brain or his hands, he was left increasingly agitated. Normally when he was this bored, he would take something apart and put it back together again and again, but clearly that wasn't possible at the moment.

The seconds stretched into minutes, into hours - into days? - until Mac had absolutely no idea how long it he had been down there. There was no clock, no window, and the men had taken his dad's watch with the rest of his clothing. He knew screaming for help would get him nowhere. If these criminals were into human trafficking, then they were smart enough to hold him somewhere that was out of the way of prying eyes and ears.

Finally, after what felt like several years - Mac knew he was being overdramatic, but hey, he'd been kidnapped yet again, so he had the right to be dramatic - he finally heard the telltale sound of the door being unlocked. He didn't want to admit it, but he was a little bit scared. These weren't just robbers, they were human traffickers now too, and if he didn't manage to get away, he would likely be just another missing person who got trafficked, never to be found again. Mac forced himself to relax as Ash walked down the stairs, his face and hair no longer stained blue.

"I bet the dye packs were a pain to wash off," he chuckled. He didn't really care if he antagonized them much. Since they were trying to sell him, they couldn't kill him or hurt him too badly without risking a lesser profit. They had in fact robbed a bank, so profit probably meant a lot to them.

"You shut your mouth, you little brat," Ash replied, anger in his eyes as he pointed his finger at Mac. The blond couldn't help but smile. "You better not try anything," the man mumbled as he bent down next to Mac and roughly untied his hands. He was rougher than he needed to be, but Mac managed to school his features and hide the pain. His hands were untied from the loop on the wall, but not from each other. That was okay. Mac could work with that.

Ash roughly pulled Mac to his feet and pushed him towards the bucket.

"Do what you need to do," Ash muttered.

Mac looked between the bucket and Ash for a moment before replying, "you're just gonna watch?"

"Sadly, yes. You're a crafty little brat so I can't just turn away. Trust me, this is as awkward for me as it is for you," Ash responded with a sigh.

Mac rolled his eyes at the comment - like hell it was just as awkward for Ash - but he turned to face the bucket and, begrudgingly, relieved himself. At least the man had the decency to stand behind him.

When he was done, before Ash could grab his still bound hands, he swung them around and bashed them into the side of Ash's head like a club. The man fell back against the wall, hitting his head on the bricks. Mac turned and ran, quickly reaching the stairs and climbing up them. But, like most terrible plans, it didn't work. Before Mac reached the top step, he felt a hand on his ankle, then a pull. Mac quickly lost his footing and tumbled back down the stairs, momentarily dazed due to his inability to use his hands to effectively catch himself. But that wasn't the worst of it. Ash quickly appeared in his line of sight, a touch of blood on his forehead and a snarl on his face.

"You son of a bitch!" the man shouted, slamming his foot down on Mac's outstretched leg, landing solidly on his knee. Mac couldn't hold back his scream of pain at the feeling of bones breaking and ligaments tearing. The pain was so intense that it brought a wave of disorientation, causing Mac's thoughts to go straight to Jack. Where was his partner? Jack was always there when Mac was in this much pain, so where was he? Jack always saved him, always took care of him. His thoughts of Jack were drowned out in his pain as he let out another cry when Ash grabbed his tied hands and dragged him back over to the wall, jostling his destroyed leg greatly in the process. Ash swiftly tied Mac's hands back to the loop in the wall, and left the room with a groan of frustration, slamming the door behind him.

It was all Mac could do to just control his breathing to keep himself from hyperventilating. It hurt so bad, more than anything he could remember, worse than all the times he'd been shot, or maybe even worse than some of the times he'd been tortured. He couldn't stop some of the pain-filled tears from falling, letting his head rest against the wall. After a minute, Mac dared to take a look at his leg, and almost gagged at the sight of it. It was horribly disfigured, and would definitely need surgery to fix. Mac could only hope that the damage wasn't career ending.

Suddenly, the door was opened again, and Booth came storming down the stairs, with Ash following after.

"You stupid little brat!" Booth shouted, walking towards Mac and not hesitating to deliver a swift kick to the blond's ribs. Mac couldn't keep in his gasp of pain, echoing the crack he heard in his ribs. "That little stunt you pulled is gonna cost us money! No one's gonna want you if your leg is beyond repair. Maybe we should just shoot you like a damn horse," Booth said, groaning in frustration. Mac couldn't bring himself to care about the man's threat. He just wanted the pain to stop. The man quickly turned and slugged Ash in the face, pushing him towards the wall. "If you mess up even one more time, you're dead," he threatened. Booth stormed up the stairs, followed by a grumbling Ash. They didn't even bother to close the door. Why did it matter? Even if Mac could escape the ropes, he could never get up the stairs in his condition, much less escape.

A few minutes later, one of the dark skinned men - Dean, Mac thought somebody said - came down the stairs with a water bottle and what looked like something to wrap Mac's leg in. The blond could barely contain his whimper of fear. This was going to hurt.

"You shouldn't have tried to run. This is gonna hurt, kid," the man said, shaking his head lightly. Mac couldn't hide the fear in his eyes as Dean knelt down next to him. He bit his lip to keep himself from screaming when Dean began to wrap his leg, stabilizing it. At least it wouldn't become catastrophically worse.

"If you were me, you would've tried to run too," Mac said, trying - and failing - to keep his voice steady despite the pain. Dean wouldn't look him in the eyes. "You can't just sell people-"

"Do you want this water, or not?" Dean asked, cutting him off. He held up an unopened bottle of water, and twisted the cap off. Mac shakily nodded his head. Some water would be great. Dean held the bottle up to Mac's lips and gently let him take a few sips. He let Mac drink about half the bottle before he recapped it. "I'm not supposed to do this, but I brought some Advil. Open up," he continued in a low voice, removing a small bottle from his pocket and pouring out three pills. In most situations, Mac would've refused the painkillers, especially some given to him by his captors, but Dean seemed genuine, and it was probably in Mac's best interest to just take the pills. He allowed Dean to give them to him, and swallowed them down with another gulp of water. "I'll bring you more later, and maybe some food," the man muttered. Dean stood and left without another word. He closed the door, and Mac heard it lock once again.

It was back to waiting, only this time, Mac wouldn't be able to save himself when the opportune moment struck. He was going to need some help.


	6. Out of the Frying Pan

****AN: Most of you left some wonderful reviews on the last chapter, and I thank those of you that did very much. However, two guests left some very rude reviews (with startling similar content and word choice...) and I need to address that. I'm sorry that life has made you guys so bitter that you're taking fanfiction so seriously. I don't write this for you, I write it for me, and I'm not going to change my writing just because you guys think it's OOC or unrealistic or whatever. I am going to write my story exactly how I want to, no matter who likes it or doesn't. So please, take some old advice: if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all :) still, I forgive you guys for being rude because God has already forgiven you, so who am I to not? I hope you have a wonderful lives, but I do ask that you refrain from reading my stories anymore. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's that simple. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy, and please leave a nice review, criticism that's actually constructive and useful instead of insulting, or nothing at all :)****

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She may not have been with the others in Puerto Rico, but that didn't mean that Matty wasn't trying to help find the blond genius. Like the others, she hadn't slept much that night. Instead, she spent time going over everything available on Zachary Kline, attorney at law. She was on her way to San Francisco to interrogate him herself. Okay, officially it wouldn't be an interrogation, but she would sure as hell make it feel like one. She found all the right buttons to push if - he decided to be uncooperative - to get the man to tell them _exactly_ what they needed to know - that was, of course, assuming the man actually had the information.

The sun had risen by 6:30, and Matty was at the man's doorstep by 6:45. That should have been enough time for the man to dress for work, only, he would be late to get there. Matty rang the doorbell and steeled herself. She had to be cool and calculating, and not show just how terrified she was for Mac. The boy had become something of a son to her, and she hated it when things like this happened. Oversight might not have cared nearly as much as he should have, but that didn't mean she would sit quietly on the matter.

A man in a dark blue suit, red tie, and brown oxfords opened the door with a quizzical look on his face.

"Can I help you?" he asked hesitantly.

"For your sake, I certainly hope so," Matty replied, taking a step closer. Kline looked around Matty, as if he were expecting others, and she took his distraction to push past him into the large house.

"Hey, what do you want?" he asked, closing the door behind him. "I have to go to work-"

"What can you tell me about Marc Booth, your former client?" Matty asked, cutting the man off. She stared him down with her arms crossed, not blinking. This man defended violent criminals on a daily basis, so Matty would have to make sure she was at the top of her game when it came to intimidation techniques. She had to start out slow, but that was usually the best route.

"That falls under attorney-client privilege. I can't tell you anything. Who are you?" Kline replied, taking a hesitant step towards Matty. She wasn't sure what all she could say without Oversight's blessing, but she was willing to risk it to find Mac.

"All I can say is that I work for the US government, and it is in your best interest to tell me what I need to know. I have an agent missing and I need to know everything that you do." Matty didn't let her reaction show, but she was surprised when the man's eyes softened at her words. He seemed saddened to hear that an agent was missing. Maybe she could play on that. "But he's not just an agent, he's basically still a kid, and if we don't find him, that kid is gonna die," she continued, her voice soft. Mac may have been the master improvisor, but Matty was skilled at rapidly adapting interrogation techniques.

Kline sighed. "I want to help you, I really do, but I can't break the confidentiality that my client and I share, even when he's a fugitive." He paused. "What has he done?" he asked in a low voice, not meeting Marty's eyes. He looked almost guilty for not feeling able to help.

"He and four other men robbed a bank in Puerto Rico, and they took hostages. They let all of them go but one. They made it off the island with the money, and my agent."

Kline ran a hand through his black hair as he groaned lightly. He turned away from Matty and put his hands on his hips, beginning to pace a little.

"I took Booth's case because I wanted to get him a chance of parole. I believe in giving people second chances, even people who have done terrible things. I was hoping that maybe, with my influence, I could help him turn around and become a productive man. Sadly, that wasn't the case. He managed to escape before the trial was over for his armed robbery, and I haven't seen him since," Kline said, shrugging his shoulders and sighing again.

"You have to know _something_ that could help us find him," Matty pleaded. "I know everything about you, and I know you're the type of man who always tries to do the right thing, even when it may go against the rules." Kline seemed like an honest man, and it seemed more likely that he would be persuaded to help through positive measures rather than negative ones.

"Booth was never all that talkative, so no, I don't have anything I can tell you that might help you find your agent. But I can tell you one thing: you need to prepare yourself for the worst. Out of all the criminals I've defended, Booth was one of the worst. He may not have done the worst things compared to some of them, but you could see it in his eyes that he was bad," Kline said, his voice growing more and more passionate. "He doesn't care about other people, and he's willing to do anything to get what he wants. He's a ruthless man, and he was definitely deserving of life behind bars. If Booth decides your agent is no longer useful to him, then I'm afraid the kid is dead. I'm sorry. I wish I could do more." Kline turned away again, but Matty didn't press.

"Please, if you think of anything that could help us, anything at all, please call this number. The man on the other end will go to hell and back to get this kid home, so please, any information you might have could be useful," Matty said, giving the man a sad smile and holding out a card with Jack's name and sat phone number on it.

Kline nodded, and Matty left. She needed to get back to LA before Oversight got too mad.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Jack. He said he doesn't know anything, and I believe him. Kline is a good man, and he only wants to help people," Matty said over the phone. That only made Jack more frustrated.

"I know another good man who only wants to help people, and it's because of that that he's still a hostage. That doesn't help us Matty!" Jack shouted. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he was so scared for Mac and all of that fear was coming out as anger. Matty was the most convenient target. When the woman had first called him to say that she would be handling the interrogation in person, instead of Jack doing it over the phone, he was hesitant. He knew she was making the right call, but he wanted to be doing something more productive instead of pouring over all of the robbers' old case files in hopes that something would jump out at him. That's all the three of them were doing, and it sucked. Riley had tried tracking their van, but it hadn't worked. There just weren't enough working security cameras in Puerto Rico to make tracking it an option. She had tried for several hours, and came back with nothing. Everything seemed like a dead end.

"I know," Matty replied. "I'm doing everything I can, Jack. I'll call you when I have something." She hung up.

Jack took a deep breath and set the sat phone down. Throwing it and completely loosing his temper wasn't going to help them find Mac. He didn't need to tell Riley and Bozer that the plan with the lawyer hadn't been successful. They could tell by his tone and face.

The three - Jack, Riley, and Bozer - sat in silence for another hour until Riley finally said in a hesitant voice, "guys, I think I have an idea." Jack and Bozer looked up at her instantly, awaiting her idea. "I've been reading through Pike's file, and he's been wanted for questioning in several cases surrounding illegal dark web activity, right? So I'm gonna try running a search for anything pertaining to Mac specifically on the dark web. Maybe somebody recently put a bounty up for him and the robbers figured out who he really was. Pike has connections, so he could know some pretty bad people," she said, her fingers beginning to type rapidly as she started to do, well, whatever it was that computer nerds like Riley did to run a dark web search. Jack didn't know how it was done, and he wasn't about to ask.

"On the one hand, I really hope this works, but on the other, I really don't want us to end up with another Murdoc who wants Mac dead on our hands," Bozer said, raising an eyebrow at both Jack and Riley.

Jack didn't say anything, but he was thinking the same thing. Having another psychopath hunting Mac down was not the answer he was looking for. Despite that, he just wanted something, _anything_ , that could help them find him. They didn't know what the robbers had done to the kid, so there was no knowing if he would be able to escape on his own. Jack had to work under the assumption that he couldn't. Riley would've called it his sixth sense or something, but Jack was just feeling like that was the case, that Mac couldn't escape on his own. Maybe it was just because they shared such a profound bond and were so in tune with each other, or because Jack was just so scared for Mac and thus was assuming the worst, but Jack felt like Mac was in a lot more trouble than they thought. Of course, that was pretty common. The kid managed to get himself into all kinds of crazy situations on a pretty much daily basis, so really, no matter what, Jack shouldn't be surprised. Still, he just wanted his kid back safe and sound.

"Let's hope not," Jack finally muttered, making brief eye contact with Bozer before turning back to the files.

About an hour later, the near silence was interrupted by Riley's quiet, "oh no."

Jack looked over to her, eyes growing wide with worry. Riley had put her hands over her mouth in horror.

"Riley, what is it?" Jack hesitantly asked, his mind already thinking of the worst. Maybe she had found proof that Mac was already dead, or that he was with Murdoc, or something equally as heinous.

Bozer got up from his seat and walked around the table to Riley, who still sat in silence. Jack heard the man's sharp intake of breath and muttered curse.

"What did you find?" Jack asked again, failing to keep the slight shudder out of his voice. He wanted to get up and go see for himself, but his legs had turned to jelly, and he feared that if he stood up, he'd only fall back down again. But he needed to see, he needed to be strong, to be strong for Mac, for them all.

"Jack..." Riley said, trailing off as she briefly took her eyes away from the screen. Her eyes were filled with fear. That's what it took to get Jack to finally stand up and walk to her, his legs feeling heavier with each step. He knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to see.

There, on the dark screen, were pictures of Mac. Only Mac was almost naked, dressed only in his boxers and hanging by his wrists, which were tied to a pipe across the ceiling. The kid was clearly drugged, but Jack felt a bit of pride swell through his fear when he saw that Mac still had a look of defiance in his eyes. But, his heart still broke when he saw the fear that mixed with it. That was the thing about Mac. Despite being such an incredible spy, he could never hide the expressiveness of his eyes. It just took someone who really knew the kid to be able to read them. In the pictures, Mac's stunning cobalt blues would seem a mixture of tired and defiant to any outsider, but Jack could clearly see the fear in them as clearly as he felt fear himself.

That wasn't even the worst of it. The pictures were taken all over Mac's body, with close ups of his muscles, of his neck, his hands, his ass, even his feet and-

"Damn it!" Jack loudly swore, turning away from the pictures and punching the wall. He let out a shout, both of pain and frustration. Jack couldn't be bothered to care about the way that Riley flinched, or how Bozer was looking at him. Even when he closed his eyes, all he could see were the pictures of his kid, tied up and scared. Jack didn't need to think about it. He knew what was going on. The people who took Mac had turned from robbing, to human trafficking. Things had just gotten much more interesting.


	7. Double Homicide

**AN: I love writing because it makes me happy, and I hope all of you have something that makes you happy too :) Medical inaccuracies abound in this, so please, take it all with a grain of salt lol. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

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Mac didn't know how long it had been. All he knew was that he wanted the pain to stop. The painkillers Dean had given him slightly dulled the throbbing, but it wasn't much. Mac was exhausted, not only from the pain but from his tensed muscles too. Any movement at all set his leg on fire, so he held himself as still as he possibly could. After several hours, Mac just wanted it to end. It didn't hurt enough to make him pass out, but it too much to allow him to fall asleep. It was hell.

His heart rate picked up once again upon hearing the telltale sound of the door opening. Mac took a deep breath and schooled his features. They didn't need to know how much pain he was in.

The man that first walked through the door was unrecognizable to Mac. He was a professional looking Hispanic man with eyes that did nothing to hide his fear. Mac could see the man's hand's shaking as he carefully walked down the stairs. He was followed by Booth, who was holding a gun to his back, and Ash, who closed the door behind them.

"Fix him," Booth growled, nodding towards Mac. The man looked between Booth and Mac's knee, his eyes wide.

"I- I don't know if I- if I can," he stuttered, refusing to make eye contact with his captor.

"You know what happens if you can't," Booth replied, letting the barrel of the gun rest against the man's head. He nodded, albeit shakily.

"I'm Dr. Gomez," the man said, looking at Mac. "This is gonna hurt. I'm sorry," he muttered. Mac bit his lip to keep himself from crying out as Gomez began unwrapping his leg and assessing the damage. He couldn't stop a cry of pain when the doctor began gently prodding his knee.

"Shut up!" Booth shouted at him, turning the gun towards Mac. "It's your own fault anyway," he said.

Gomez looked at Mac, guilt and fear in his eyes telling the blond everything he needed to know. That poor man was going to die.

"All I can do from here is keep his leg stable. It's a bad fracture, and will likely require surgery to fix. The only thing that can be done for him here is immobilizing his leg," Gomez said, briefly looking up at Booth before looking back at the ground.

"Well that kid ain't gettin' that surgery, which means you've outlived your usefulness." Booth raised his gun and shot Gomez in the head, point blank.

"No!" Mac shouted as the man fell to the side, completely limp. Blood covered the wall where the bullet came out, barely missing Mac. Gomez lay on the floor, dead, only a few feet away from the blond.

Mac glared up at Booth in anger. He had just murdered an innocent man, a man who probably had friends, a family, who loved him and would never see him again. He was a monster.

Booth turned to Ash, shouting, "this is your fault! If you'd only done your job better, we wouldn't be in the this mess. So you're gonna join him." He lifted his gun and leveled it at Ash.

"Wait-" Ash started, lifting his hands up as his eyes widened, but it wasn't enough. Booth shot him in the chest, and watched as he fell to the ground on the opposite side of Mac. After a few seconds, the man was dead, just like Gomez.

"At least now all the cash can be split four ways instead of five," Booth said with a grin, turning to leave.

"You're sick," Mac muttered. Booth only laughed, walking up the stairs and out the door, leaving Mac alone with the two dead bodies.

Less than hour after Booth left, Mac started to feel even more uncomfortable than he had already been. The dead, sightless eyes of Ash and Gomez seemed to be staring at him, watching him, as if blaming him for their demise. If he hadn't tried to escape, Gomez wouldn't be dead, and neither would Ash. Logically, Mac knew that it wasn't his fault. Anyone in his position would have tried to escape, and Booth was a just a coldblooded killer. That wasn't his fault. But still, it was hard to convince himself of that when all he could do was sit next to their corpses.

Mac could just barely make out the slight discoloration of the body where blood had begun to pool, along with the stark white of the rest of their skin. Considering the temperature and humidity of the room, it was likely that the bodies would be removed before the began to smell too terribly. Of course, that was assuming the bodies would be moved at all. If it was going to be done, it would be easier to do it before they smelled or bloated. If they wouldn't be removed, then the basement Mac was trapped in would definitely seem like hell.

Several hours after Booth had left, the door opened once again, this time with Dean gently closing it behind him and walking down the stairs.

"I've gotta wrap your leg again, and I've gotta do it tighter," he said, giving Mac a sympathetic look. Mac nodded, letting his head rest against the brick wall. It would probably hurt less if he could keep himself relaxed.

He was wrong. Mac still groaned in pain as Dean began rewrapping his leg. At least the man had the decency to mutter some soft apologies. Within a few minutes, it was over. Mac's leg was in more pain than it had been since it was broken, but it did feel more stable.

"I've got some more meds for ya," Dean said, pulling out the same bottle of Advil and reaching behind him for the water bottle. Mac eagerly took the pills and drank as much water as Dean allowed him too.

"Why are you helping me?" Mac softly asked. It had struck him as odd that the man who had been pointing guns at hostages in a bank the day before was now giving him pain medication and apologizing for hurting him.

"I never wanted any of this," Dean sighed. "I've never exactly been a good person, but I've never really hurt anyone, and I don't want to. The bank was going to be the end. Once I had my share of the money, I would set myself up with a new ID somewhere, and put myself through college, make something real of myself." He sighed again, shaking his head. "I never wanted anyone to get hurt, and now here you are, needing a hospital but being sold to some sick freak instead, and two people are dead." Dean looked from one body to the other, closing his eyes. "I never wanted any of this," he said.

"Then please, help me. Get me out of here, help me get home," Mac pleaded, ducking his head to catch Dean's eye. If he had any shot of getting away without a big rescue, it was through the man crouched in front of him. "I'll put in a good word for you, I'll make sure you get the minimum sentence, please," he said. Mac knew he couldn't really promise that, but he would be damned if he couldn't try.

"Look, I'm sorry, kid. I really am, but there's nothing I can do. I'm already involved, it's over for me. I would never be able to get you out anyway," he finished in a whisper, making Mac strain to hear it. He stood up and grabbed the water bottle, beginning to make his way out of the room.

"Dean, please," Mac begged one last time, but Dean purposefully looked away, and left. "Damn it," Mac muttered, letting his head fall back against the wall. He needed to get through to that man. That was the only way he could escape, the only way he could get back to Jack and the rest of his family.

Mac knew that Jack was trying with every fiber of his being to find him, and Mac would be damned if he didn't try to do the same to get back. He couldn't escape on his own, but if anyone could save him, it was his partner. Jack would go to the ends of the Earth to find him, to hell and back, to the edge of the world and beyond. So Mac knew he was going to be okay. Jack would find him. Jack always found him.


	8. Commingling of Bad and Good

**AN: I apologize that this chapter is shorter than it should be, especially after not having posted a chapter since last week, but I do have an excuse. I made a MacGyver vine comp! I spent a lot of time making it, so I would really appreciate it if you guys would check it out and let me know what you think :)** **watch?v=WBTVELxR-PI**

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Jack felt like screaming in anger and frustration, but he settled for punching the wall again, letting out a grunt that held his pain - both physical and emotional - as he did so.

"Jack, stop!" Riley shouted, standing up and grabbing Jack's arm. The man let his arms go limp as he let out a shuddering breath. "Bozer, go get some bandages," Riley said over her shoulder.

Jack sat back down in the chair he had vacated and rested his bleeding hand on his knee. The skin was broken and heavily bruised from hitting the cement, but Jack doubted it was broken. He wasn't in enough pain for that - or maybe he was just too worried about Mac to care, but either way, it didn't matter.

"We're gonna find him, Jack. I promise," Riley said. Jack nodded, but didn't say anything. Of course they were going to find him. There was no question about it, no other option _but_ finding him. Jack would find him if it was the last thing he ever did. He'd give his life for that kid, no questions asked.

Bozer came back into the room with the gauze wrapping Riley had requested, along with a small towel and hydrogen peroxide. She took it from him and sat down in the chair next to Jack. All three were silent as Jack allowed Riley to clean and bandage his hand. The hydrogen peroxide stung, but his face didn't show it. All he could think about was finding a way to save Mac.

"Now that we know what they want him for, what's our next move? Do we pose as potential..." Bozer trailed off for a moment, before continuing, "potential buyers, and get him back that way?" Both Jack and Riley flinched at the word "buyers", and Jack could feel the rage growing in the pit of his stomach. Those sick men were trying to sell Mac, a human being, to the highest bidder who would then do whatever they wanted to the kid. It was disgusting. The fact that those people were sick enough to do that to someone, especially someone as kind and innocent as Mac, made Jack want to vomit.

"They've seen our faces at the marina, and I don't think even you could make disguises that would be good enough. You're good, Boze, but the disguises would have to completely change our entire faces, and even in Hollywood they can't do that and make it look realistically human," Jack replied with a shake of his head. It was a good idea, but it just wouldn't work. He briefly thought about the fact that they hadn't seen Matty, but there was no way she would be able to do that without Oversight's approval - screw him, whoever he was.

"I'll see if I can track down where the page was posted from," Riley said, standing up and moving back to her laptop, and taking a seat there. "Chances are, they posted it from the same place they're keeping him, or at least nearby."

Throughout the next hour, Riley continued to attempt to track down where the page was posted from while Jack and Bozer printed out information about the robbers, their connections, and their backgrounds, as well as the pictures of Mac. That was the hardest part. Even taking another look at those pictures made Jack sick, and he had to print them out and tack them onto the cork board. He needed to study them too. No matter how hard it was, if there was any clue hidden in those pictures, any clue at all, Jack had to find it. He just had to. So far, the only things he could gather from the pictures was that Mac was being held in a basement made of dark brick, with a wooden staircase. That meant he had to be off the boat.

"Riley, what time was that page posted?" he asked.

After a few keystrokes, Riley replied, "about nine hours after they left the marina."

"Which means they could've gotten only so far," Jack said with a small smile. _Finally_ , it seemed like they were getting somewhere.

"Can you give us a view of what's in a nine hour yacht ride radius of San Juan?" Bozer added, walking around the table to join Riley. He put one hand on her shoulder and the other on the table.

"Yeah, just give me a second." Riley's eyes narrowed as she focused on the task at hand, only widening upon her completion. "Guys, they're still in Puerto Rico. It's not possible for them to have gotten any further. They're either somewhere on this island, or on the small island of Culebra. It's still a part of Puerto Rico."

The news made Jack's heart soar. Mac wasn't nearly as far away as he could've been. This was the first good news they'd gotten since the whole mess began. He needed to call Matty. They had proof of life and a relative location. If that didn't get Oversight to help them, nothing would.

Jack pulled out his phone and stepped just outside the room, giving himself a bit of privacy and Riley and Bozer the quiet to concentrate in. He tapped Matty's name and she answered in seconds.

" _What have you got_?" she said, her director voice mixing with her concern.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" Jack replied, trying to inject just a little bit of humor into the situation.

" _Just tell me already,_ " she snapped. " _I_ _don't_ _have a lot of time._ "

"Okay," Jack sighed. "The good news is that we have proof of life and we know he has to be somewhere in Puerto Rico still, even if he's on a different island." He paused, not wanting face the other fact.

" _And?_ " Matty pressed.

"The bad news is that our robbers are also human traffickers. They're selling Mac on the dark web to the highest bidder."

Jack could hear the director's sharp intake of breath. " _I'll inform Oversight, and_ _hopefully_ _we'll be_ _able_ _to get some more manpower down there to help with the_ _investigation_ _. But if anyone can find him,_ _it's_ _you,_ " she said.

"I'm gonna bring him home or die trying," Jack practically growled. He hung up after that, and tried to get himself to calm down by thinking of what Mac would do, but that only made it worse. Mac shouldn't even be in this mess. He should be safe at home fixing that old bike, like a kid like him should be doing, not being sold on the dark web as some kind of slave. Jack ran his hands through his hair and down his face, trying to keep his emotions in check. It wasn't going to do Mac any good if he just stood there being pissed. He had to actually do something. Shaking out his aching hand, Jack turned on his heel and walked back into the conference room they'd commandeered. He had to get to work.

* * *

"That's not good enough," the man sighed. "I need a location, a specific location, not just 'somewhere in Puerto Rico'. I can't just send a team in to go barge down every door on the islands."

"But sir, pretty soon someone is going to buy Mac, and he'll be leaving Puerto Rico for who knows where. If we can't find him while he's still there, there's a good chance we never will," Matty pleaded. Oversight was without a doubt the most stubborn man she had ever met. She owed him a lot, but at the same time, she often hated him and what he'd done.

"Angus is a smart kid, he always has been. He'll find a way to get himself out sooner or later," the man said with a dismissing wave of his hand. It was like he didn't even care.

"But what if he can't? If he can't away and we don't find him, we'll lose so much. One of our best agents, and our best team, because we both know Davis, Bozer, and especially Dalton won't be sticking around if Mac remains missing, and don't forget, we lose Mac too." Innocent, bright eyed, selfless Mac.

"Don't you think I know that, Director Webber? I know better than anyone what we'd be losing, but I will not waste time and resources where our odds of success are so small, not even for Angus. And you will follow my orders, or do we need to have another talk about insubordination?" he asked, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward in his impressive chair.

"No, sir," Matty seethed, her teeth clenched. It was days like today that she truly hated the man.

"You're dismissed," he said, turning away from Matty and back to his desk, as if nothing of what they'd just discussed mattered at all.

Marty rolled her eyes after turning around. As if Oversight could keep her from helping her agents to find the boy that had become a son to her. Unlike the boy's father, she would not be so quick to abandon him.


	9. The End of the Beginning

**AN: Getting ready for college has been hectic, so I haven't had nearly as much time to write as I would like. Regardless, you should still be getting at least one chapter every week. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

Mac didn't know how many hours had passed since Dean had left, but it was enough to let rigor mortis set in with both bodies. It was only his sense of self preservation that kept Mac from laughing at the grunts Pike and the other man - Phillip, maybe, yeah, his name was Phillip - were making as they attempted to lift Ash's stiff corpse. It wasn't really funny, but still, Mac couldn't help but grin. These were criminals who had killed the man in cold blood, and now they were complaining about having to take care of the body.

"Come on, use your legs," Pike grumbled, trying to heave Ash's body further up.

"Shut up, I'm working as hard as I can," Phillip snapped back in reply. "I wish we could just leave 'em here. As soon as the buyer comes for the boy we're out of here anyway."

Mac perked his head up at that. He tried not to think about it, but they had just painfully reminded him of the reason they hadn't let him go or killed him yet. They were selling him on the black market.

"Shut your mouth," Pike angrily replied, taking a quick glance at Mac. The blond only glared in return. He knew it would do him no good to try to reason with them. Dean was the only one he had any chance at making progress with, and the only one Mac trusted wouldn't deliberately hurt him for trying. But, that didn't mean he would just sit there in silence.

"You know, if you hadn't killed him, you wouldn't have to worry about it," Mac said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. His sense of self preservation could only get him so far. His sarcasm just wouldn't allow itself to be contained. Besides, it kept him sane throughout this whole mess. Since his hands were chained above his head, he couldn't stimulate them at all. There was nothing to grab onto. His leg throbbed too much to move, leaving only his brain for any kind of activity. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to mouth off to the men holding him captive, but Mac would take what he could get.

"And whose fault is it really that he's dead? Yours, kid. Booth wouldn't have killed him if he hadn't messed up your leg, and Ash wouldn't have done that if you hadn't tried to escape. So trust me when I say this." Pike paused, turning towards Mac and narrowing his eyes as he tried to hold on to Ash's body. "If you were capable of walking, then you would be the one taking care of these bodies and digging their graves. Because their deaths, they're on you, kid. _You_."

Mac held Pike's glare and returned it. It was stupid, but he wouldn't be the first to look away. It wasn't his fault, he really did know that, no matter what that nagging voice in the back of his head whispered, what it always whispered, that it was always his fault. He wouldn't let Pike have the satisfaction of thinking that he'd gotten into Mac's head. It just wasn't going to happen.

Finally, Pike looked away and brought his attention back to carrying the body up the stairs. A few minutes, he returned with Phillip, and they repeated their grunts and complaints as they took Gomez's body up the stairs. Blood stained the ground where it had poured out, and stained the walls where it had been sprayed. The iron tang still haunted Mac's nose, but he knew it was just his imagination. With the bodies gone, Mac was once again left alone with only his imagination to keep him company after all. He'd already counted all of the bricks too many times, and there wasn't much other than that that he could do.

After another few hours of deafening silence, the door opened and Dean once again came down the stairs, a water bottle in hand. He produced some more pain pills from his pocket and offered them to Mac, who took them gladly, along with half the bottle of water.

"Think you can help me?" Mac asked, motioning with his head towards the bucket in the corner. Dean sighed, but nodded and released Mac from the chains. This was where Mac knew it was going to get rough.

"I'll lift you up on three," Dean said, looping his arm around Mac's back. He counted off, and lifted Mac up as the blond pushed up with his good leg. The movement was still jarring, and Mac had to bite his lip to stop more than a gasp of pain from escaping. After standing for a moment to give Mac time to breathe, Dean helped him to the bucket and back. He didn't even complain once, which surprised Mac. Yeah, the guy seemed to be the most morally virtuous out of all the men, but still. Most people would complain at having to do something like that.

"You'll be leaving soon," Dean whispered as he gently took Mac's wrists and chained them back to the wall.

"What?" Mac couldn't stop the panic from entering his voice. If he was relocated, then how was Jack supposed to find him? He knew his chances got slimmer and slimmer as each day passed, and his chances were basically gone if he were to be relocated.

"Quiet down," Dean shushed, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door at the top of the stairs. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but soon, you'll be taken by a wealthy man who lives in upstate New York. He had the highest bid and he'll be coming tomorrow with the money. I'm sorry," he said, genuine emotion in his eyes.

"Then please, help me," Mac pleaded. If you're really sorry, then help me get out of here-"

"I can't, I'm sorry, kid. I can't help you escape, but if your friends find us, I promise I'll tell them everything. That's all I can do," Dean whispered. Once again, the man stood and walked up the stairs, not meeting Mac's gaze again.

Mac tried to take in a few steady breaths to calm his racing heart. Maybe this could be a good thing. A big change like this could give him the opportunity he needed to escape, or at least find a way to contact Jack. Jack. The man was probably frantic now. Mac didn't know exactly how long he'd been gone, but it had been at least a day or two, and he knew that at this point Jack would likely be wearing a hole in the floor from his pacing. As always, thoughts of Jack's nervous habits brought a smile to Mac's face. He was known to completely freak out whenever Mac was on his own and in danger, and this would likely be no different. As much as he joked about it, Mac was surprised that Jack hadn't actually gotten Mac microchipped or something. That certainly would've made this easier.

Mac would do anything to get home to Jack. The mother-henning could be annoying, but Mac knew it came from love. Jack always did anything and everything to make sure Mac knew just how much he cared about him. Mac smiled at the memory of their first hike together in the San Gabriel mountains. It had been Mac's birthday, and of course, he hadn't wanted to celebrate. But still, Jack found a way to make sure that Mac had a good day. He let Mac tease him relentlessly on their hike, and sprung for every expense that had to be made. Mac wouldn't have accepted an outright birthday present, but, like Bozer, Jack had managed to subtly gift Mac with many things throughout the day, from new hiking equipment, to various doodads that Mac would surely use for one thing or another. But the one thing Jack had always gotten him on his birthday was happiness. As long as he was with Jack, it was no longer the anniversary of his dad leaving him, but just an amazing day spent with his big brother.

Mac fought back the sudden wave of emotion that his thoughts of Jack had brought on. Maybe Riley was right, maybe they were a little codependent. He just missed Jack _so much_. It's true that Mac was the one who had most of the brains in their partnership, and was the one who came up with lots of solutions, but it was Jack who often inspired those ideas. Anything the man said could often bring a new thought to Mac's mind to help them get out of whatever sticky situation they were in. He could really use that right about now.

Mac took a deep breath to try to calm himself, but to no avail. He let his head fall back against the wall as a few tears escaped his closed eyes. All he wanted was go back to that day in the San Gabriel mountains, and go back to his big brother.


	10. Location Found

**AN: Sorry for such a long break. I'm moving into college on Monday, so life has been pretty hectic. That being said, I don't know what my update schedule is going to become at all. This is my first year is college, so there's gonna be an adjustment period while I figure things out. I hope you enjoy, and if you don't, then just go read something else lol it's not that hard.**

* * *

Jack lay on the couch, restless. Riley had convinced him and Bozer to try to get some sleep, since none of them had had much since before the day of the bank robbery. She had said that she was getting close to figuring out where the page had been posted from, which meant that Jack and Bozer had to be at the top of their game when she finally found it. The three of them would get there as quickly as they could, hopefully with a TAC team, and get Mac out. Jack couldn't do that if he were exhausted.

Sadly, despite all of that, sleep was proving to be elusive. Every time he closed his eyes, those pictures of Mac were all he saw. They were burned into the back of his eyelids. A quick glance at Bozer proved that he wasn't the only one. The younger man was clearly not asleep either, although he was doing better at pretending - unlike Jack, who was opening his eyes every five seconds. Jack turned and faced the back of the couch, just to give himself the semblance of more privacy.

Still, Mac was all he could think about. He was out there, somewhere, alone and probably terrified. He always hid it very well, but Mac was only as brave as he was because of his fear. If he were there, the blond would spout off some quote from some dead guy about the relationship between fear and courage, and how courage can only exist after fear is already there. But he wasn't there. He was being held captive by the scum of the earth.

In a last ditch attempt to calm his brain enough to fall asleep, Jack started planning everything he wanted to do with Mac once he got the kid back. He wanted to go hiking in the San Gabriel mountains again, and watch boring documentaries to Mac's heart's content. Whatever the kid wanted, Jack would get it for him.

It didn't work. Jack's sleep remained restless, and his dreams were haunted by images of Mac, alone, hurt, scared, and calling out to him, asking why he wasn't there, why he hadn't come for him. They weren't dreams Jack would quickly forget.

* * *

Riley took another quick sip from her coffee as her fingers flew over the keyboard. A yawn threatened to overtake her, but she wouldn't let it. She needed to be awake and alert if she was going to find where that page had been posted from. She knew she was close, which was why she had ordered Jack and Bozer to rest until she found it. That should happen within the hour, but still, it was too long for her liking. Each hour they spent looking was one more hour that Mac was in the hands of those sick freaks who had him. Despite her initial reservations, the blond had quickly warmed his way into her heart, becoming the little brother she'd never had. Family was everything to her, and she would do anything to find her little brother.

The minutes continued ticking by as Riley got closer, and closer, and closer, until finally - freaking _f_ _inally_ \- she had it. Leaning back in her chair, Riley let out a breath and ran her hands through her curls in relief. Punta Noroeste, Culebra, Puerto Rico. She had it.

Now that she knew where it had been posted from, they needed a plan of attack. In a perfect world, they could just hop a Phoenix jet or something and take out all hostiles themselves, but Riley knew that wasn't the smartest plan, despite what her heart wanted. It was time to wake Jack and Bozer, and let Jack make the tactical plans. That was always something he excelled at.

Riley stood from her seat and walked over to Jack. Part of her felt bad for needing to wake him, but it didn't look like he was getting sleep that was actually restful anyway, based on his facial expression.

"Hey, Jack," she said, hoping it was loud enough to wake him. Luckily, his eyes quickly snapped open.

"Ri? You got somethin'?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. The noise caused Bozer to stir, who groaned as he too sat up. At least he got some beneficial sleep.

"I know where they posted it from. Punta Noroeste, on Culebra," she said. Jack sank back into the couch at her words. She could see the relief crushing him in the best way. Bozer was a bit more animated.

"So we can go in now? We can go get him?" he asked. He quickly stood up as if he could go swim all the way to Culebra himself.

"Not quite yet, Boze, sit down," Jack answered, motioning with his hand for the younger man to take a seat. "This is the best news we've had yet, so I'm gonna call Matty, and hopefully, since we have an actual location, she can send us a TAC team. Once we get that team, we go in and get our boy back." Jack paused and made eye contact with both Riley and Bozer before he continued. "I'll call her, so you kids just sit tight for a hot second."

Jack stood up and walked to the other side of the room, Riley quickly taking his place on the couch. It was surprisingly comfortable, which made her question why the detectives had been so willingly to give up the two couches in their offices for them to drag into their makeshift war room. If she could, Riley would take the couch with her back to LA. The black leather would go nicely with the modern aesthetic style of her apartment.

Jack's voice quickly brought her back to the situation at hand.

"We have a location," he said into the phone. "Punta Noroeste, Culebra. Can you get a TAC team down here?" The longer the pause went on, the more anxious Riley got. What if they couldn't get the TAC team? What would they do then? " _Thank you_ , Matty, thank you. We'll bring him home."

Riley could've cried in relief. They were finally getting resources. She let out a sigh and rested her head on the back of the couch, closing her eyes. If she could just rest for a minute...

"No sleepin' yet, Ri," Jack said, bumping her leg with his boot. "I just need you to do one thing for me, then you can sleep until the TAC team gets here. Bozer, you'll be helping me." Both of them stood and took the few steps over to Jack. "Riley, can you pull up a live satellite feed and all the maps you can get of Punta Noroeste? We need to find out everything we can about the area and where specifically they might be keeping Mac." Riley nodded and got to work. "Bozer, once Riley pulls everything up for us, we're gonna be pouring over it all until back up comes. We wanna be as ahead of the game as we can so this goes as smoothly as possible."

Only a few minutes later, Riley had exactly what they needed. Everything was quickly printed out and spread across the table so Riley's laptop could charge. They had all the angles that were available, and all pictures that could possibly provide any aid. The foliage was very dense, which made it difficult to see any buildings they might be keeping Mac in, but it was better than nothing. The entire island of Culebra had a population smaller than Riley's high school, so it wouldn't be that difficult to search through. It was only a little over eleven square miles, and it would be impossible for the robbers to leave in a stealthy manner. The biggest danger seemed to be the abundance of snakes on the island.

Riley smiled at the thought. Mac loved snakes. He would always save them when he could, and he would gush on and on about their biology and how they moved and all other science-y things about them. He did the same things with frogs too. In the moment, it could be a little annoying - especially when Riley had heard the same thing from the blond over a hundred times before - but more than anything, it was heartwarming, and she would do anything to hear it now, to see the way Mac's face lit up when he was talking about something he thought was really interesting, even if no one else thought so. Riley vowed to never make him shut up about it again.

"Hey, you should get some rest now," Jack suggested, bumping Riley's shoulder with his own. "Let Bozer and I work on this. We've had naps, you haven't."

Riley shook her head. "No, I'll be okay. I want to help find Mac."

"You already have, and I'm so proud of all the hard work you've done. But I know you're gonna wanna be at the top of your game when the TAC team gets here. You can't be that if you're dead on your feet."

"Yeah," Bozer chimed in. "Let me try to impress Jack with everything I learned in spy school," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Still, it did its job, and Riley grinned. She gave a small nod and made her way back to the couch, where she flopped onto her back. It was a really comfortable couch. Riley turned so her back was towards her friends, and let their low voices lull her to sleep. When she awoke, they were going to bring Mac home.

* * *

Matty let out a sigh of relief. Oversight had actually agreed to send a TAC team to help get Mac back. She hadn't been sure if the man really would, even with an eleven square mile area zoned off. The man cared about Mac, or at least he claimed too, but it wasn't the same kind of care that most people had for their children. It was a controlling care. He didn't care enough to actually be in Mac's life, or even to let him know that he was in LA. James only wanted to control every aspect of his son's life from a distance, and if something happened and Mac got hurt, or even worse, it was like it didn't even matter, like Mac was just some plaything to him that he could throw away once he didn't "work" anymore. It disgusted Matty. She would do anything help Mac find out the truth about his father, even if that meant she had to lie. The boy deserved to know.

But finally, with a shrug, Oversight had agreed to send a TAC team to save Mac since they had a small enough area to search. He may not have said that Matty could go with the team, but she would be damned if she didn't do anything to help save the kid. She would not just sit back and let others rescue the agent she thought of like a son. She had a few vacation days saved up anyway.

With a smirk, Matty left to assemble the team that would be flying down to San Juan. She was going to get her boy back.


	11. This Is Your Conscience Speaking

****AN: Sorry for such a long break between chapters once again. I have officially started my first week of classes at college, and so far so good, but it's been interesting trying to find the time to write. Hopefully updates will become more regular once I fall into a routine here. This is definitely not the best chapter I've ever written, so sorry in advance, but I'd like to think that I have some pretty good stuff coming. I hope you enjoy!****

* * *

Mac was awakened from his restless sleep by the sound of the door opening with a loud screech of metal on metal. The noise only made the pounding in his head worse. He hadn't eaten anything throughout the duration of his captivity, and had been allowed only minimal water. That was likely the reason behind the pain. He looked up at the door and was greeted with the sight of Booth walking down the stairs, followed by a middle aged man in an expensive suit, and Pike. The three men walked towards him, Booth with a scowl, Pike with a smirk, and the other man with a crazed, lusty grin. It reminded Mac of Murdoc, and he had to fight to not shudder under the man's gaze.

"Oh my, my, my. He is quite exquisite, isn't he?" the man said. He had a hint of an accent, maybe French, or something similar. He probably had about ten years on Jack, but appeared to be fit.

"We knew he would fetch a good price. Sorry about the leg, but he tried to escape. He's a crafty little bitch," Booth muttered, still leveling a glare in Mac's direction.

"Do not worry, my new friend. That will not be a problem. If the boy is as intelligent and resourceful as you say, then it is probably for the best that he cannot walk. For my purposes, he does not need to be able to walk," the man said.

Mac's heartbeat shot up even more at those words. With the way that the man was looking at him, and fact that this was black market business, Mac had a pretty good guess at what his "purpose" would be, and it wouldn't be anything good.

"Give me the money and the kid's all yours," Booth said, tearing his glare from Mac and looking at the man, who pulled out his phone.

"The money is being wired to you as we speak," he replied with a grin. "Now, help me with the boy, please."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Mac finally said. He knew he couldn't actually do anything to stop them, but he had to at least put up some token resistance.

"You don't have a choice, you little brat," Pike said as he stalked over to the blond and purposely bumped his knee. Mac gasped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. Pike just smiled, roughly grabbing Mac's wrists and unlocking the chain from the wall, leaving his wrists only chained together. "Hey, boss," the man continued. "This'll be a lot easier if he's out."

The men all looked at Mac for a moment before Booth turned to the man in the suit.

"Would you mind if we..." he trailed off, motioning to the blond. "He's your property now so really it's your decision." Mac bristled at being called someone's property, but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut for the moment.

"Not at all! But I carry something a bit more civilized than what you might have," the man in the suit said with a sick grin. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. "I thought that maybe it might come to this." Mac started to fight back as much as he could as the man stalked towards him, taking the cap off.

"No!" he yelled, trying to push back against Pike, who was holding him down. The man struck him across the face, eliciting a cry more from surprise than pain. But the hit did its job. It distracted Mac enough for Pike to get a firmer grip on him while Booth knelt next to him and grabbed his head, pulling it to the side to expose the blond's neck. The man with the syringe knelt on Mac's other side, taking his jaw in a grip that would have been gentle in any other situation. Mac tried to pull away, but he knew it was no use. He flinched when the needle went in, and quickly felt his eyelids getting heavier, and heavier, and heavier...

* * *

Dean didn't know what to do. He felt terrible for the kid, but there wasn't anything he could do for him. He just wanted to get off Culebra, go to college, and pretend that none of this had ever happened. But his conscience wouldn't let him do nothing. That poor boy was going to suffer at the hands of his new captor, Dean knew that much. The man was an obscenely wealthy foreign businessman living in upstate New York with a penchant for pretty blond boys. The kid fit that description very well. With his leg busted the way it was, it would be damn near impossible for him to escape on his own. Dean has to do _something_. This was never supposed to happen. That bank manager wasn't even supposed to have gotten shot. They were supposed to go in, get the money, and get out. No hostages, no death, and definitely no kidnapping or human trafficking. It had gone way too far, and Dean would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't do something to help the poor kid.

But what was he supposed to do? No one else shared his sentiments, and they wouldn't hesitate to kill him if they knew what he was thinking. He couldn't help the boy if he were dead.

Dean reached into his pocket, fingering the kid's Swiss Army Knife. He wished there was a way to get it back to him, but he couldn't think of anything. Dean vowed to himself that he would hold onto that knife until he could give it back to its rightful owner. Somehow, someway, he would get it back to the kid - he still didn't even know the kid's name.

The man was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps coming up the basements stairs. He turned his head and saw Booth and Pike come up, followed by Lawrence Phelps, the wealthy man who bought the blond - Dean had to fight to keep himself from shuddering at the thought. Phelps held the kid in his arms in a way that would have been gentle, but instead looked possessive. The kid was passed out, but even in his sleep, he still looked to be in pain. Dean wasn't surprised. Unless given real medical attention soon, the boy's leg would probably never be the same. He didn't deserve that. The boy had only been trying to help those people in the bank, and now he was in this mess. He didn't deserve this at all. Dean couldn't stop himself from shaking his head in dismay.

"What?" Pike asked in an accusatory tone, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

"Nothin'," he quickly replied, a little too quickly. He needed to cover himself. "It's just what Ash did, wrecking the kid's leg. That's all," he said with a shrug.

Pike gave him another long look, but didn't say anything. Booth was too busy talking with Phelps to be bothered. He got up and followed them from a distance when the men walked outside, towards the seaplane. Dean watched in dismay as Phelps lifted the blond into the plane and tied his already bound hands to one of the seats. The sea breeze was light and pleasant, but it did nothing to erase the heavy weight in Dean's chest as he stood there, doing nothing, while Phelps and Booth shook hands. What was he to do? What could he possibly do to help the boy? Maybe he was just too slow or too stupid to think of something to do while the boy was still on the island, but he would be damned if he didn't spend every second of the rest of his life trying to undo his mistake. He would find a way to save the boy from his heinous fate, no matter what.

* * *

Several hours later, Dean found himself packing the few belongings he had with him, as well as his share of the two million dollars they'd stolen from the bank - his minimal guilt over that was absolutely nothing compared his guilt over the kid. He, along with the rest of the crew, would be leaving Culebra soon to blend back into society with their ill gotten gains. Dean still planned on putting himself through school if at all possible, but he didn't know what the rest of them were doing. The money from the sale of the boy had been wired to one of Booth's accounts, and that money would soon be split up among the four of them as well. It was a sizable amount. Phelps had been willing to pay nearly anything for the boy. It was disgusting.

Now, all Dean could think about was how to alert the proper authorities without getting himself arrested in the process. Despite the fact that he most certainly deserved to go to prison for a very long time, he really didn't want to. He would much rather go to college and get a degree, do something with his life. So how would he do it? There was no way his conscience would let him just keep going on with his life without helping the kid in some way. Based on the look on the face of the man who had shot at them back at the marina, the kid had a family who would want him back.

He was suddenly brought back to the present by the sound of someone shouting his name. The man quickly ran outside, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight in front of him. Phillip was lying on the beach, blood surrounding him. He looked dead. Booth and Pike were trying to take cover, and Pike had a lot of blood coming from his arm.

Dean took cover, but peaked out at the assailants. They looked like SWAT guys, but wait, one of them looked familiar. It was the man from the marina! Dean couldn't stop the smile from creeping into his face. If he could just stay alive, he could help the man find the kid.

"Where's your gun?!" Booth shouted at him. Dean just completely ignored him. They were significantly outnumbered and outgunned, so even if he had been planning on fighting back, it wouldn't have been any use. He just tried to hide himself from the shots, and waited. Several more shouts of pain came from Booth and Pike, and the gunshots became less and less, until finally, there were none. Dean slowly uncovered himself and raised his hands high above his head, showing that he wasn't a threat. He looked over at Booth and Pike, who were both on the ground with SWAT guys on top of them, cuffing their hands behind their backs.

"I can help you," Dean said, putting up no resistance as one of the SWAT men took his hands and cuffed them. "Please let me help you."

"Mac!" the man from the marina shouted as he ran into the house, his gun still drawn as he cleared the first room. He didn't know that the kid - Mac - was already gone. Dean didn't relish what would happen to the crew when the man found out. But for now, all he could do was wait. Help may have arrived too late to save the boy from being taken by Phelps, but at least Dean could help them get him back.


	12. Beach Invasion

**AN: This chapter isn't quite as good as I would like it to be, but I'm struggling a bit with rounding it out, so this is about as good as it's gonna get. I hope you enjoy it anyway, since I definitely still enjoy writing it, even if it isn't great.**

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About six hours later, a full TAC team was assembling in their makeshift war room, along with their very own Director Webber. Jack was itching with the need to get moving, to find his kid and kill the bastards that took him. The plan was pretty straightforward: land a seaplane on the opposite side of the peninsula from where intel suggested their hideout was, cross through the small jungle, and ambush them. Jack had done countless missions like it throughout his tenure in both the military and covert government work. It should be easy. The only problem was that he had gotten so used to doing these missions with Mac at his side that it now felt wrong to do them without the kid.

Within a few minutes, everyone was suited up, including Riley and Bozer, who had both been given bulletproof vests and a handgun each. They didn't know exactly what they were walking into, and Jack and Matty agreed that it was best for the two to be prepared and protected - however, they would be required to stay behind the rest of the TAC team, since they were least experienced in these kinds of situations.

No one spoke until they touched down in Culebra. From the short ride to the marina where they took off, to the bay where they landed - after flying past and turning around in order to avoid detection - everyone was silent. Tensions were running high. Everyone knew that if they messed this up, Mac was going to be the one who ended up getting hurt. Jack wasn't about to let that happen. They were getting the kid out of there, and Jack was never going to let him out of his sight again.

Jack crept silently through the dense foliage with Matty to his right. The TAC team slowly approached the house, making use of the ample cover before the shoreline. The house was situated right by the beach, which made about a third of it impossible to approach stealthily. That was okay with Jack. He didn't plan on being gentle with the men who had taken his kid anyway.

The only way in or out of the house was the front door, the few windows were too small for anyone to get in or out that way. With the team in position, Jack had just given the order to move in when the door swung open, and one of the robbers walked out, a cigarette in hand. It was one of the two dark skinned men, Phillip Stevenson, Jack thought. He saw them moving the moment he looked up from his lighter.

"Cops!" he shouted, dropping his cigarette and lighter on the ground and reaching for the small of his back. Jack took him out with a double tap to the chest. Stevenson fell to the sand without so much as a grunt, but it was too late. The robbers knew they were there.

The door was kicked open by the leader, Booth, who fired a couple of shots before taking what little cover he could on the small porch. The man was quickly followed by Pike, one of his accomplices. Jack could hear them shouting to someone inside, and could only hope they didn't have some secret army.

Bullets started flying all around, and as much as Jack wanted to, he couldn't take a moment to look back at Riley and Bozer. The two had been instructed to wait under denser cover until all the hostiles were neutralized. Jack took a shot at Pike, and put a bullet in the man's arm. He fell to the ground in pain, and the TAC team took the distraction to pounce. Less than a minute later, the three remaining robbers were all cuffed on the ground. Jack could faintly hear one of them shouting at him, but he couldn't bring himself to listen. All he wanted was to find Mac and take him home.

"Mac!" he shouted as he ran into the house, his weapon still drawn as he cleared each room. His heart pounded in chest and his stomach fell further and further with each room he cleared, none of them containing his partner. Finally, he came to the last room in the house, a door to the basement. Taking a deep breath and praying, Jack forced the door open and almost screamed in frustration at what he saw - well, what he didn't see. Mac wasn't there. The kid wasn't anywhere in the house. He was gone.

Jack's typically cool demeanor was gone, in its place a mask of pure fury as he stalked over to Booth, who was standing with his hands cuffed behind him.

"Where is he?!" Jack shouted, gripping the man's collar with one hand and holding his pistol to the underside of Booth's jaw with the other.

"Long gone," he answered with a disgusting smirk. There was no fear in his eyes. "That little brat got us a lot of money, and now he's someone's bitch, just like he should be."

Jack snarled and swung his fist up, connecting with and effectively breaking Booth's nose. The man grunted, but still smiled while blood gushed out and poured into his mouth, making him look like some sick sort of vampire.

"You better tell me where he is right now, or you won't be leaving this island in cuffs. You'll be leaving in a body bag," Jack growled, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from the TAC team. They knew better than to say anything.

"Dalton!" Matty shouted. "I have something."

Jack fixed Booth with another glare before he reluctantly let go of the man and holstered his weapon. He walked over to Matty, who was standing in front of one of the other robbers.

"This is Dean Baird," she said. "And he's willing to cooperate completely."

Jack just stared at him hesitantly. No one did anything for free.

"And why are you so willing to help us?" he asked.

"Because it's the right thing to do," the younger man quickly replied. "We were just supposed to get the money from the bank, and that was it. No one was supposed to get hurt, and we definitely weren't supposed to take that kid and sell him. He's just a kid. He doesn't deserve that," Baird finished in a low voice, hanging his head in shame. Jack pondered on it for a moment, but the man did seem to be truly remorseful, and he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Can you tell us where Mac is?" Jack asked. He tried not to hide the hope from his voice, but it was difficult. All he wanted was to bring his kid home.

"Somewhere in upstate New York, in a mansion off the beaten path. That's the only location I can give you. But I have a name!" Baird quickly got out. "The man who bought him gave the name Lawrence Phelps, and he's originally from somewhere in Europe, maybe France or Germany or something. His accent sounded like a mix of the two."

"Could you describe him to a sketch artist?" Matty asked, already motioning for Bozer to join them.

"Yeah, yeah I think so," the man said, nodding his head. He kept looking over Jack's shoulder at Booth and Pike, who were both glaring at him for giving away so much intel.

Bozer walked up to them, with Riley right behind. Both had given up their handguns and Kevlar, and Riley held her rig by her side.

"Okay, Ri," Jack addressed, "we're looking for a guy who claims his name is Lawrence Phelps. Baird here says he's from somewhere in Europe and had an accent that sounded like it was a mix of French and German, so I'm thinking maybe Luxembourg. He says the guy took Mac to his private mansion in upstate New York."

Riley had already started typing the moment Jack had given her the name. Jack had complete faith in her. If anyone could find this guy, it was Riley.

"Bozer," Matty chimed in, "you're gonna mock up a sketch of our perp for Riley to use facial rec. Jack, you're with me," she ordered. One TAC team member stayed behind with Bozer, Riley, and Baird, while Matty and Jack made their way into the house. The other two robbers were secured, but Jack knew they were missing someone. There had definitely been another robber, and he had blue paint all over his face when Jack had last seen him back at the marina. It wasn't a thing he would soon forget.

They swept the house from top to bottom, looking for anything that might help them find Mac. All of the laptops that were recovered were handed over to Riley, who would check them over as soon as she got Bozer's composite up on facial rec. Other than that, there wasn't really anything to find. The basement had some bloodstains on it, and their blood testing kits proved it to be human, but it would have to be sent to a lab to get the DNA checked. Jack only hoped it wasn't Mac's.

"Is there anything else you can tell us that might help us find him?" Jack asked. "Anything at all?" He was getting desperate. Every moment they stayed on Culebra was one moment longer that Mac was in the hands of a man who only wanted him for one, disgusting thing.

"Phelps left this morning with the kid on a seaplane. The kid was drugged," Baird answered. "That's all I know. I'm sorry. But please, reach into my left pocket. I have something of his," he said, gesturing with his head to his left pants pocket. Hesitantly, Jack reached in and pulled out a familiar looking red knife. It was Mac's SAK. "I hope you get it back to him," he said, sincerity in his eyes.

"Dalton!" came a shout from behind the house. Jack nodded at Baird, then followed the sound. "We found something, sir."

Through the foliage, Jack saw it. Two mounds. The sight made his blood chill, but at least he knew neither mound could belong to his partner.

"Let's start diggin'," he mumbled. The TAC guy went to go grab some equipment and men, and twenty minutes later, they had two bodies wrapped in tarps brought over to the beach. "Can you ID these guys?" Jack asked Baird. He'd given up asking Booth or Pike anything. Those two wouldn't give any answers that were at all helpful, and everything they said made Jack want to put bullets in their brains.

He didn't even need one of them to be ID-ed. One, although starting to decompose, was clearly Ash Jenkins. The other, according to Baird, was some doctor.

"Why were they killed?" Jack asked, but he was afraid to know the answer.

Baird sighed before answering, "you're not gonna like it."

"Too bad, tell us anyway," Matty interjected, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes in annoyance.

"Well," Baird started, refusing to look either one of them in the eye. "The day after we got the kid, he tried to escape while Ash was with him. He almost made it, but Ash grabbed him, and he shattered the kid's knee so he couldn't try again." Jack had to fight to keep his face passive, and he heard Riley's sharp intake of breath. If Ash hadn't already been dead, Jack would've killed him himself. "Booth kidnapped a doctor and got him to look at his leg, but the guy said he couldn't do anything without a hospital, so Booth killed him right in front of the kid. He was so mad at Ash for harming potential-" he broke off for a moment before continuing, "potential sale value, that he killed him too. He left them to rot in the basement with the kid for a while before Pike and Phil put them in the ground."

Jack nodded when Baird finished, then walked off to the edge of the shoreline. He needed a moment to breathe. Letting out a frustrated sigh and running his hands through his sparse hair, Jack took that moment. He had been right. Mac was hurt, and unable to escape on his own. He was hurt _bad_. Jack had to force himself to take deliberate, steady breaths in order to keep his emotions in check. It didn't matter who took Mac where. He was going to find him, no matter what. Steeling himself, Jack turned back to the house. He had some work to do.


	13. Only Pain

**AN: This chapter is by far the most dark, almost dark enough to change the warning, but not quite (let me know if you think I should though, and I will). I really put Mac through the wringer, and it was really fun to write because evidently I'm a sadist. Despite how dark it is, I'm actually really proud of this chapter. I hope you enjoy and please leave a review!**

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Mac could feel himself waking up before he could open his eyes. They still felt so heavy, but he knew he needed to open them and assess the situation. He was a spy, and he was trained for precarious situations. Mac finally opened his eyes, squinting at the sudden brightness, and was confused by what he saw.

He was in a bedroom - a nice one at that. It had all the modern amenities someone might need, and was beautifully decorated. The floors were hardwood, and the wardrobe in the corner complimented it nicely. It was not what Mac was expecting to wake up to.

As awareness came back to him, Mac noticed the things that he had been expecting. His hands were bound, very tightly, with coarse rope that cut into his skin with every move he made. That rope was tied to the bed he was laying on. That was cause for concern. His feet, however, were not bound. That's when Mac noticed his leg. No longer was it crudely wrapped in a mock attempt at keeping it stable. It was in a brace, a real, medical brace that he likely would've been given after a surgery. It kept his knee completely unable to bend, and it actually hurt a little bit less. That was good, at least.

Looking at his leg brought Mac to the final, terrifying realization. He was completely naked. The reality of what had happened to him felt like a bullet. He had known this was the endgame since the pictures were being taken, but now it was just so much more real. He was lying bound and naked in the bed of a wealthy businessman who had purchased him on the dark web. Mac took a deep breath to calm himself down. He would get out of this - he always got out of it, with Jack's help at least. And Jack was coming, because Jack always came for him. Jack would probably come bursting through the door any minute, covered in the blood of the people he'd killed to get Mac back. That's just how the two of them worked. Mac always found ways to get himself in the worst kinds of trouble, but Jack was always there to get him out. This time would be no different. Jack would get him out before the wealthy man did what he had bought Mac for. It was going to be okay. He repeated the mantra in his head again and again and again. Jack was coming, everything was fine. Jack was coming, everything was fine. Jack was coming, everything was fine.

After successfully calming himself down from the oncoming panic attack, Mac tried to turn his head back enough to get a good look at the knots he was dealing with. If he could see the knots his hands were tied with, it would be much easier to get them to loosen. When Mac tipped his head back, he felt a sharp pinch in his neck. He moved his again, and once again, felt the pinch. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Mac noticed that there was something around his neck. It was some kind of band, or necklace, or- or a collar, Mac realized in horror. It was a collar.

Mac closed his eyes and let out another deep breath. It was okay, Jack was coming for him, everything was fine. It was okay, Jack was coming for him, everything was fine. He tried to contort his neck again to give him a view of the knot, this time ignoring the pinch. But no matter which way he turned his neck, he couldn't get a good look at it.

Suddenly, there was a sound at the door, causing Mac's heart to beat out of his chest. He quickly contorted his left leg to cover himself slightly, in a failed attempt at preserving any remaining modesty. In walked the man who had drugged him back in that basement with the robbers. He was still wearing the suit, minus the jacket. Either the shirt was a bit small for the man, or his muscles were just that well defined. He was definitely older than Jack, and had a bit more hair, but was just as fit. The man only looked at him with that disgusting lusty gaze, roaming his body up and down.

"That foolish attempt at modesty will get you nowhere, boy," he said. "Besides, I've already seen it all." The man grinned and leveled his gaze at Mac. "Such expressive eyes you have. Your rigidity and stubbornness show your fighting spirit, but you cannot hide the terror in your baby blue eyes. Such beautiful fear in such beautiful eyes."

Mac tried to remain silent as the man crept around to the side of the bed and climbed on, but when he suddenly got very close and let his hand run down Mac's body, the blond couldn't stop himself.

"Get away from me!" he shouted, lashing out with his left leg and managing to kick the man in the groin.

The man grunted as he tumbled back, then cursed loudly in some European language. He got off the bed and stalked towards the wardrobe.

"You will regret that, you little bitch," he growled. He opened the wardrobe, and Mac could see him rummaging around.

Then, all he felt was pain.

Mac's neck was on fire, and he gasped in both surprise and pain. His muscles were contracting and he couldn't breathe, was his heart even beating? He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel that pain.

Then, suddenly, it was over, and the pain slowly ebbed away to a dull throb, then a lasting soreness and fatigue.

"Whenever you don't do what I want you to do, you will receive an incredibly painful electric shock. If you ever speak and I haven't told you to, you will receive an incredibly painful electric shock. Whenever you _are_ allowed to speak, you will only refer to me as sir, unless I tell you to call me something more...exciting." The man paused to give Mac's body another lusty once over. "Is that understood?" he asked.

Mac only glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an immediate answer, consequences be damned. But then the pain was back and once again all he knew was pain. It stopped almost as soon as it started, and the man was once again asking - well, growling - "is that understood?"

Mac nodded as he breathed through the pain, still not giving a verbal response. Apparently that wasn't good enough, because the pain was back and it was longer than the previous time, and he couldn't stop his cries of pain from escaping this time. Finally, it stopped, and Mac was left panting as he tried to regain his lost breath.

"Is that understood?" the man repeated, asking as if he hadn't just tortured someone.

"Yes," Mac grumbled, looking away from the man.

"Yes, what?" he asked in a tone that left no room for Mac to wonder what the man would do if he didn't give the answer the man wanted.

Mac turned his gaze towards the man and made eye contact, narrowing his eyes. "Yes, sir," he growled through clenched teeth. He would not let this man break him. Because Jack was coming and everything was going to be okay, so he just needed to fight long enough for Jack to get to him.

"I was going to go easy on you tonight, since this is all so new to you, but because of your insolence, I am going to give you the highest amount of pain possible," the man seethed. "You have a few hours to prepare yourself, boy," he said, quickly stalking to the door and slamming it behind him.

Mac closed his eyes in an attempt to calm his racing heart. It was going to be okay, because Jack was coming. Jack always came and made everything okay.

It was impossible not to notice that the man had left the wardrobe open. Mac could see a few of the things inside, and what he saw he never wished to see again. The sight of the plethora of objects some people preferred to use in pleasure that he had never had any interest in almost made him gag in disgust. He knew they awaited him if he didn't get free.

With renewed vigor, Mac began tugging at his bonds. The ropes rubbed tightly against his wrists, cutting into them and drawing blood, and they didn't seem to be getting any looser - at least they weren't getting tighter at his struggles, that was something. But then there was only the white hot pain coursing from his neck around his body. Mac's back arched as he let out another cry of pain. Then, almost as soon as it started, it was over. Why? Why had the man done that to him again? He wasn't even in the room. What had Mac done to deserve that? Were there cameras in the room that he couldn't see? Sadly, there was only one way to test that theory. With another deep breath to steel himself, Mac began struggling against his bonds once again. And again, the pain was back, and it wasn't going away. Mac couldn't help the scream that ripped through his throat at the agony. He just wanted it to end, wanted to get away, to get back to Jack. Where was Jack? Why hadn't Jack saved him yet? Was Jack okay? Jack had to be okay.

It was the terror of thoughts of an eternal separation from Jack that accompanied Mac as he sank once again into the dark abyss.

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Mac longed for the days where the feeling of coming back into consciousness was new. He had been doing it so much, especially recently, that had lost count of how many times it had happened years prior. Sadly, that was just part and parcel with his job. Usually, the payoff was worth it during a mission. But this wasn't a mission. It wasn't like when he had tossed the chloroform into the fire back at the wine resort in order to stall the crime syndicate until backup could arrive. This time, he was on his own, in the hands of a mad man.

As Mac opened his eyes, he saw said mad man standing at the foot of the bed Mac was tied too. His heart rate immediately kicked up when he realized that he had likely been unconscious for the few hours that the man had said he would give him, and now was when the man planned on having his...fun.

"If you do this," Mac breathed out, "you're a dead man." He had no doubt in his mind that Jack would kill the man for this. It was only a matter of time.

Mac gasped as the pain was back, but it was gone as soon as it came.

"What did I say about speaking? You will not speak unless I tell you to. Besides, you cannot kill me, and no one is ever going to find you. Even if they did, do you really think they'd want you after tonight? After I make you my bitch no one is going to want anything to do with you. You may as well get used to that. I am the only one who can give you anything. Any pain will come through me, and one day, if you behave, any pleasure will come through me as well. But first, you must come to accept your place and your purpose. You are nothing but a vessel for my own pleasure, and it will remain that way for the rest of your life."

Mac couldn't help himself. "Wow, you sure do love to hear yourself talk," he sassed. He knew it was a terrible idea, but it was in his nature. Besides, he couldn't let the man's words get to him. He couldn't just sit in silence and allow himself to be someone's property. He couldn't do it. The pain he felt from the shock collar was worth it for him to keep his humanity just a while longer.

"We will continue to do this silly charade until you learn your place, boy," the man growled as he set down the small remote on the chest at the end of the bed. He then began to remove his shirt, and Mac knew what was happening.

On the edge of panic, Mac began to struggle against his bonds again, and the man only laughed at his efforts. The ropes didn't loosen, and more blood only flowed from his wrists.

The man was as naked as him now and crawling onto the bed. Mac lashed out with his free leg and managed to strike the man in the gut, who let out a loud curse word in a language Mac couldn't understand. In retaliation, the man grabbed Mac's injured knee and squeezed.

Mac screamed as he felt the bones grinding together, and immediately stopped struggling. He just wanted the pain to end. The man let go of his knee and positioned himself so that Mac could no longer fight back at all. Mac shivered under the man's gaze, so much like Murdoc's lusty glare. He flinched away from his touch trailing down his bare chest, but was unable to move due to the restraints. He was completely at the man's mercy, and it was terrifying.

"Don't do this," Mac panted. "Please don't do this." He hated to beg, but that was better than this, anything was better than this.

Once again, the man only laughed, and then there was only pain.

Throughout his litany of cries and screams and begs for it to stop, the only coherent thought going through Mac's mind was _Jack_. Jack was coming, everything was fine. Jack was coming, everything was fine. Jack was coming, everything was fine...


	14. Rescue Mission

**AN: I asked, and you guys answered! Due to popular request, this story has officially changed to an M rating. I know the last chapter was suuuuuuper dark, but things are looking up now, I promise. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review :)**

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More progress had been made in the last half hour than the entire investigation before then. Riley had hit pay dirt on the robbers' laptops. All of the money they had received from Phelps for Mac had been wired to a bank account in Arkansas, and it was collected into evidence the moment Matty called it in. She had confirmed - thanks to Bozer's sketch - that the man really was Lawrence Phelps, a disgraced businessman from Luxembourg who was spending his retirement in a mansion in upstate New York. The one downside was that there was no given address. Since he was involved in dark web activity, the only thing they knew about his location was the half of the state it was in. But they could work with that.

"If I were a billionaire involved in human trafficking, I would stay as far away from people as possible. I would be able to afford anything and everything since I'm a billionaire, and by the sounds of this guy, he's not gonna spare any expense," Riley said as she typed the new parameters into her rig. Jack had no idea what she was doing or how she was searching for whatever it was, but that's why she was the computer hacker, and he was the guy who used the gun.

"Baird said he left on a seaplane, so he has to live near a lake large enough to land one in," Jack added. At least, if he were a billionaire, he would have his own lake for it, or at least live on a lake like one of the Great Lakes in order to have ample room.

Riley nodded as she began typing again. They were all huddled around her as she sat at the table in the small house. Bozer had been pretty silent since he finished the sketch of Phelps, but he stood behind the hacker, watching the laptop intently. Maybe it was time someone talked to him.

"Boze, come here a sec'," Jack said, motioning for Bozer to join him in the other room. He walked over and could hear the younger man following him. "How you holdin' up?" he asked. Bozer wouldn't make eye contact.

"What do you expect, Jack?" he said, crossing his arms and looking out the window. "My best friend was kidnapped and sold on the black market to some sick freak. How exactly am I supposed to be feeling?" Bozer's voice rose slightly as he finally looked at Jack, only to drop his gaze again, along with his arms. "I've been looking out for that kid since the fourth grade, and now, all I've done to help find him is sketch the guy who took him. That's it. I feel so useless, Jack. I'm not like the rest of you. I may have passed spy school, but I'm not used to this, and I don't know what to do."

Jack wasn't surprised that Bozer had unloaded all of that onto him with such little prompting. Bozer has always been much more open with his emotions than Mac - Jack had always hoped that maybe Bozer would rub off on the kid in that way.

"Hey, we're gettin' him back, okay? I swear on my life that we are getting him back. I will die before I let Mac live in the hands of a monster," Jack swore, ducking his head to catch Bozer's gaze. "And you are a part of this. We wouldn't have a positive ID on the guy if it weren't for your amazing sketching abilities, okay? And you are gonna be with us when we find Mac. You're gonna be right alongside us, and I'll even give you a gun, okay? It's about time that you start carrying one anyway," he finished. He may regret what he said about giving Bozer a gun later - he seemed to have a bit of a trigger finger - but he knew it would help in the moment. "Now come on, I'm sure Riley's gonna have something any minute." Jack clapped Bozer on the back and walked past him, back to where Matty and Riley were staring at the laptop. "We have a location yet?"

"Not quite," Riley replied, not taking her gaze away from her rig.

"We've got several possible locations. Three different mansions fit our criteria, and they're all occupied, but the records about them are confidential. That isn't uncommon for businessmen like Phelps, even if they're clean," Matty explained. She turned away from Riley to face Jack and Bozer. "I was just about to call Oversight and get him to authorize teams to check each house. We have three teams that are already en route, and no matter what Oversight says, they'll be going undercover at the houses with whatever maintanence worker identities we can backstop in the next ten minutes. Once we know which one is Phelps', those teams will draw back and wait for us." Matty pulled out the sat phone and moved into the other room. Jack could hear her giving a code to whoever was on the other end before she was out of hearing range.

That sounded as good a plan as any Jack would have come up with. As long as it got his boy back to him, Jack was okay with pretty much anything.

Less than a minute later, Matty was walking back into the room with a look of resolve on her face. Jack looked at her with a question on his lips, but she answered it before he could even ask.

"We're wheels up in twenty," she said. Jack - and everyone else for that matter - breathed a sigh of relief. "We fly back to San Juan, then board the Phoenix jet to New York. By the time we get there, we should know which mansion we're storming."

Finally - freaking finally - they were getting Mac back. They were almost there.

Matty let them know that the seaplane would be returning to Culebra to pick up the TAC team and the robbers, as well as all the evidence, but the first priority was getting the team on their way to New York. Everything else came second. All that mattered was getting Mac back as quickly as possible. No one wanted to even think about what could have been happening to him, but it was all that was going through Jack's mind. He couldn't help it. The kid meant everything to him, and Jack was terrified that something terrible was going to happen that kid before he got there to save him. Low level or not, it was human trafficking. That wasn't something to ever be taken lightly.

Soon enough, they were back on the seaplane to San Juan, then on the Phoenix jet to New York. By the time the jet had taken off, the first team was in position at the first mansion and was preparing to figure out who owned it. Their play was that there was a gas leak, and the house needed to be evacuated and checked for exposure. The covers were backstopped, and Riley had already forged any reports they could possibly need. Riley had barely taken her eyes off her laptop since they landed on Culebra, but Jack could tell that was more out of nerves than actually having something to do every second.

"Hey, Ri, come here a second," Jack said, using the same tactic he'd used on Bozer only an hour earlier. it worked, and Riley got up from her seat to follow Jack to the back of the plane. "I'm proud of you," he said. From the face Riley made, she was clearly surprised to hear Jack just say that so casually. "I am. You have done so well, and we wouldn't be able to find Mac without you. You've done so well, sweetheart, but you have to rest a minute. You've only gotten one night of sleep since Mac was taken, and that's just not gonna be enough."

"It's not like you've been sleeping either," she grumbled in reply, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. "Whenever you try, I know you have nightmares about Mac, about what could be happening to him, about all of the other things that have actually happened to him over the years, about never seeing him again, about finding him but it being too late..." she trailed off, not making eye contact.

"Are we talking about me, here, or you?" Jack asked, ducking his head to catch Riley's gaze. He reached out and put his hands on her slim shoulders, grounding her. Riley looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"What if it's too late, Jack? I know what goes on on the dark web and what people get sold for. If Mac is still alive, then there's really only one other thing he would be bought for. What if the Mac we know is gone? Jack, I can't- I can't even imagine not having the Mac I've always known." She shook her head and wiped at her eyes. Jack's heart was breaking even more that it already had. "I just want him to be okay. He's the closest thing to a little brother I've ever had, and I can't lose him, Jack, I- I can't," Riley said, shaking her head again and turning away from Jack. She paced around and let out a deep breath. Jack stopped her where she was.

"It's gonna be okay," he said, wrapping her in his arms. In most circumstances, Riley would not accept an embrace from Jack, but these were not most circumstances, and both of them knew it. "We're gonna find him, and no matter what, we are gonna be there for him and make him okay. It might take a while, but I know I'm never gonna give up on him, and you're never gonna give up on him, and I doubt Matty or Bozer would either. Once we get him back, there aren't any better hands Mac could be in for his recovery. We're gonna make him okay, I promise." Riley tightened the embrace, and Jack could feel her nodding against his shoulder. "It's all gonna be okay," Jack whispered. "Come on, baby," he said, leading Riley towards the couch. Jack took a seat, and Riley joined him, lying down with her head on his lap. It was muscle memory, and Jack soon found himself running his fingers through his hair. This was a move typically reserved for Mac after a particularly harrowing mission, but Jack didn't think his partner would mind, considering the circumstances.

Oh, Mac. Thoughts of comforting his partner after past missions brought Jack's mind back to the present. He had a pretty good idea of what that monster would be doing to Mac, and if he were right, then Jack would have to do more than just comfort the kid. He might need more than Jack could provide, and that thought terrified Jack. How was he supposed to help the kid if he shut him out? That happened more times than Jack could count, when Mac thought that Jack wouldn't be able to handle whatever it was he was going through. Jack would make it his personal mission to make sure that Mac knew that no matter what, there was nothing that Mac could go through that Jack wouldn't be there for. Jack was always going to be there, always.

* * *

They had positive confirmation on the mansion. The second team had found it. When they got to the mansion, they were able to convince the butler that the house really did need to be evacuated while they checked the area for gas. Phelps himself had gone outside with his staff, but he kept asking when he could go back inside, and kept staring up at one of the windows. After staying a convincingly long enough time, the team had assured Phelps that his house and the immediate area were clean, and left. Jack and the team were about fifteen minutes out when the recon team called it in. Now, two hours later, they were all just out of sight of the mansion, gearing up for the extraction. In most cases, Jack would be admiring the beauty of the area, and Mac would be spouting off all kinds of nerdy things about the birds and the logs and that stuff. But this wasn't most cases, and Mac was the one they were there to save.

"We've got three teams. Alpha team will be going in the front. I will search for MacGyver, the rest of the team will take out hostiles and secure the staff," Jack commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. This was battle strategy. This what he excelled at. "Bravo team will go in through the back. Matty will join me in searching for Mac, while the rest of the team clears the house. Charlie team will remain outside and pick up any stragglers. You're the biggest, and need to have people surrounding the house. Am I understood?"

A chorus of "yes, sirs" could be heard, and Jack nodded. It was finally happening. They were finally getting Mac back.

The teams that had done recon had joined them, and helped to comprise the makeshift TAC teams. Bozer would be in Charlie team due to his lack of experience in the area, as well as Riley. Jack gave them both weapons, but wanted them to remain relatively safe. He could not - would not - lose anyone he cared about today. Everyone had comms, and both Riley and Bozer were instructed to wait outside until all threats were neutralized. Jack wasn't sure how well they would follow that command, but he could hope.

It was go time. All three teams stealthily made their ways through the dark treelines. The heavy cover would help to conceal them from both the cameras and the light coming from inside the mansion. Jack's heart was beating faster than it did on a normal mission - because this wasn't a normal mission, it was Mac - but he felt an eerie sense of calm. This is what he was good at. He had the utmost confidence in himself in these situations. He was in control of himself and his emotions. He was military, pure Delta, and he never appreciated that more than in that moment.

Creeping up to the front door, Jack took a deep breath, and whispered into his comms, "breach."

Everything was a flurry of activity after that. Jack kicked the door down and tossed in a flash grenade. He could hear the screaming of the staff and the shouts of the security as doors were busted down and the gunfire started. Jack quickly began clearing the mansion as he searched for Mac. The security was no match for the three teams of highly trained agents. This man really thought he was never going to be caught. Jack couldn't help but grin at that, not at all sorry to burst his bubble.

After clearing the first floor, Jack carefully made his way up the stairs, with Matty following shortly behind him. He went right at the top of the stairs, and let Matty take the left. On the second floor, the sounds from downstairs were much more muffled. Jack strained to listen to possible sounds coming from the upstairs that maybe he hadn't been able to hear earlier. So far, he hadn't seen any sign of either Mac or Phelps. Creeping into the office room, Jack remained as quiet as he could, and worked to block out all sounds he knew were coming from the commotion downstairs.

That's when he heard it, the small whimper coming from- from the wall? Jack crept towards the bookcase, and quickly realized that it wasn't just a bookcase, but a door as well. He could see the hinges on the side. Putting his ear to the "door", Jack took a deep breath, and listened. Everything was muffled - the room was likely soundproofed - but Jack would know the sound of Mac's cries anywhere. Jack's heart lept in both relief and fear. He had finally found his kid, but from the sounds of things, Phelps was hurting him, and Jack would not wait another moment for backup.

"I need backup in the upstairs office, immediately," he said into his comms. Without another moment to lose, Jack pulled the bookcase-door open and leveled his rifle, but he froze at what he saw.

He'd finally found Mac, but there were tears flowing from the kids eyes, he was bound and naked, and there was blood. There was Phelps, too. The man was also naked, but he was wearing a sick smile and possessively running his hands through Mac's blond hair. Mac was whispering for him to stop, to leave him alone, and his eyes were screwed shut as he flinched away from every touch.

Jack took all of that in in a matter of a millisecond, and Phelps' eyes widened when he saw the intruder.

"You get away from him now, or I'll kill you," Jack growled through clenched teeth. He was going to kill the man anyway, but he didn't need to know that.

"Now you put your gun down, or I'll hurt the boy again," Phelps said, slowly raising one hand, in which he was holding what looked like a small remote. Mac only stared at Jack in disbelief, as if he couldn't quite believe that Jack was really there. He kept mouthing Jack's name, but didn't say anything.

"You're not in a position to be making demands. If you hurt him, it'll be the last thing you ever do," Jack said, deadly serious. His rifle was aimed directly at the man's forehead, and he knew he would hit him on the first shot.

"Well, if I'm dead anyway..." the man trailed off, then pressed a button on the remote. Mac started screaming, and Jack shot Phelps immediately. The billionaire fell back, dead, and Mac relaxed against his bonds.

"Oh, Mac," Jack said, rushing up to the kid and pulling out his knife to cut the ropes. "You're okay now, you're okay." Jack would've been lying if he said he wasn't close to tears himself.

"J-Jack?" Mac stuttered, looking up at his partners with tears in his eyes. "Are you really here?" he asked, his voice breaking at the end.

"Yes, kid, I'm here. I'm here and I'm never leaving you, okay?" Jack reassured, taking a gentle hold of Mac's bloody wrists after freeing them from the ropes.

Mac launched himself at Jack and clutched the back of his Kevlar like a lifeline. He buried his face in Jack's neck as he began to sob. Jack held him as tightly as he felt he could without hurting the kid. He'd clearly been through a lot.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm here, I'm never leaving you, I've got you. You're gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay. I've got you now. I'm gonna keep you safe now," Jack said. He kept up his litany of reassurances as Mac cried into his shoulder, and couldn't stop the tears that were flowing from his own eyes. He finally had his kid back, but he'd just been through so much. He had been hurt so, so badly, and Jack just wanted to fix it for him, but he knew it wasn't that easy. All he could do was be there for him. And he would be there for him until the end of time.


	15. Lost and Found

**AN: This is probably some of the most gratuitous hurt/comfort I've ever written, but I know that's kind of what you guys wanted lol, and I really enjoyed writing it. I know this chapter is a bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but I wanted the focus of the whole chapter to be the comfort that you've all been waiting for, so I don't think you'll be too mad lol. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

Mac didn't know how long it had been since the pain had started, only that it seemed unending. Even after the man was done, everything still hurt. Mac just wanted to curl up in a ball and sob, but he didn't have that luxury. The man was still there, right next to him, touching him, running his fingers possessively through Mac's hair. The blond screwed his eyes shut and kept whispering - he didn't mean for it to be whispers, but his throat was too sore from screaming for anything else - for the man to stop, but the man only chuckled and touched him more.

But then the man froze, and Mac could feel him tensing up beside him. And then there was a voice, such a familiar voice, a voice that Mac would know anywhere, no matter what. It was Jack's voice. Slowly opening his eyes, there his partner was, decked out in full TAC uniform, and Mac knew he had to be dreaming. There was no way that Jack was actually there. The trauma had finally made him snap, and he was only seeing what he wanted to see.

Mac was so caught up in his thoughts that he wasn't hearing anything that dream-Jack was saying, but then nothing mattered because the pain was back in his neck and he was screaming, because it lit everything on fire, everything from his neck to his abused body was on fire and he just wanted it to stop. And then it did. The pain wasn't white hot anymore. It was back to the dull throb it had been ever since the man had finished his fun. But the man was gone too. He wasn't holding onto Mac's hair, or his body, or anything.

But Jack was still there. Was he not a dream? Could he be real?

"Oh, Mac," Jack said, lowering his weapon and rushing to Mac's side. He quickly cut the ropes with his knife and looked at Mac with too bright eyes. "You're okay now, you're okay," he said.

"J-Jack?" Mac stuttered, his eyes once more filling with tears, the realization that Jack really was there finally hitting him. "Are you really here?" he asked, his voice breaking, either from his raging emotions or the pain in his throat. Mac didn't know which.

"Yes, kid, I'm here. I'm here and I'm never leaving you, okay?" Jack said, gently pulling the ropes away from Mac's bloodied wrists, and taking an equally gentle hold of them. It was a stark contrast from the way that the man lying dead beside him had gripped his body in a bruising hold. That man hadn't even seen him as a person, only an object for his own use. But Jack, Jack looked at him like no one else ever had, in the best way. Jack held his wrists with gentleness and love. There was no one like Jack.

That was all the confirmation Mac needed. It really was Jack. He was really there. He'd come for him. He didn't leave him. Mac couldn't hold himself back anymore. He launched himself at his partner and gripped the back of his vest as tightly as he could. The tears started flowing again and Mac couldn't stop them. He could only bury his face in Jack's neck and hold on tight. Mac felt Jack's calloused hands on his bare back, gently holding him up. Jack was holding him, and everything was going to be okay. Jack was there, and Mac knew he would never leave him. Everything was finally okay.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm here, I'm never leaving you, I've got you. You're gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay. I've got you now. I'm gonna keep you safe now," Jack continued, gently rubbing Mac's back as he continue to sob into his shoulder. Mac just couldn't stop himself. He'd been through so much in the past however many days it had been, and it was finally over. Jack had ended it, just like Mac had told himself he would again and again and again. Thoughts of Jack were the only thing that had been able to keep Mac sane, and now here he was.

But the moment couldn't last forever.

There were noises at the door and Mac heard a gasp - was that Riley? - and all Mac could do was try to fold himself into Jack more. He didn't want anyone else to see him like this - naked and bloody and crying and completely falling apart - least of all his team. He needed them to think that he was fine, that he was strong, that he could handle anything that life threw at him, because if they knew the truth, they would surely treat him differently. They wouldn't go to him for help anymore, because how could he possibly help others if he couldn't even help himelf? He couldn't let them see him differently, but maybe it was too late.

Mac took in a shuddering breath as he continued to cry into Jack's shoulder and held onto him tighter. But the noises by the door were gone. Jack must have sent them away, and for that, Mac would be forever grateful.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, Mac finally began to calm down, and tried to take deeper breaths to aid in the effort to stop crying. He wanted to leave that room, that bed, those sheets stained with blood and something Mac wanted to forget forever. Still, he couldn't bring himself to untangle his arms from Jack. He didn't want to lose that connection, because if he let go, then maybe Jack would disappear and that man would be alive and would hurt him again. In the back of his mind, Mac knew that was completely illogical and made no sense whatsoever, but Mac's logical side was overpowered by the side that had abandoned and betrayed and tortured too many times in his short life.

But after another minute of Jack holding him and whispering reassurances in his ear, someone from the TAC team appeared at the door holding something, but Mac closed his eyes once more and hid his face in Jack's neck. Even if this man wasn't part of his team, Mac still didn't want him to see him like this.

"I've got some clothes for ya, bud," Jack gently said, still not loosening his grip on Mac. "Whenever you're ready, I'll help you."

So that's what the man from the TAC team had been there for. He'd brought clothes for Mac. His face heated up at the realization that everyone probably knew he was naked, and thus everyone probably knew what had happened to him, but Mac didn't give himself time to really think about it, because if he did, he would cry again, and he did not want to start that. He wanted to get out of there.

"Okay," he whispered in response, hesitantly releasing his grip from Jack's vest, but not letting go of Jack's arm. It hurt too much to sit on his own power. Mac closed his eyes and looked away in shame at needing to lean on Jack because of this.

"Hey, none of that, alright?" Jack said, gently pulling Mac's chin up. "You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. You have been through hell, and it's okay to need help after that. That's what I'm here for," he said, letting Mac continue to grip his arm to get the pressure off himself, and reaching for the pair of sweatpants on the bed. "These should fit over that brace, at least until we get you to the hospital. I heard about your leg."

Mac just nodded. He really didn't want to go to the hospital, but he knew that it was nonnegotiable. Even if he didn't want to, he knew that he needed to.

"I know this is gonna hurt, but you're gonna have to let go so I help you, okay?" Jack asked.

Mac hated that he needed help to do something as simple as putting on clothes, but knew he had no other option, so he nodded, once again closing his eyes when he let go and leaned back a bit so Jack could help him. The moment he could, he wrapped his arms around Jack's neck again, and let Jack hold him up. It hurt too much to sit at all.

The tee-shirt was much easier to put on, and Mac recognized it immediately as the one Jack kept in his go-bag at all times. Mac would've been lying if he said the mere presence of the soft cotton against his skin didn't make him feel much calmer.

"You ready to get out of here?" Jack asked, not letting go of Mac. "I'll carry you down to the car and get you to the hospital, okay? The others are gonna want to see you as soon as possible, but I'll make them wait until the hospital if you want," he said, maneuvering his hands a bit to make it easier to pick Mac up without causing him additional pain.

"Okay, uhm," Mac started, wanting to be honest with Jack but not wanting to share his fear at the same time. "I'd rather they wait, because I just-" he stopped, embarrassed. "I don't want them to see me like- like this," he said, finishing in a whisper that he was sure Jack would have to strain to hear.

"That's okay, bud. Anything you want, anything at all, I'll take care of it for ya," Jack replied in a soft, calming voice.

Mac nodded into Jack's shoulder, then shifted his grip around his neck as Jack picked him up in his arms, one arm around his slim shoulders, the other under his knees. The leg in the brace stuck straight out awkwardly, but there wasn't anything they could do about it. Usually, Mac would protest at being carried in such a hold, but now, he would't be able to even stand on his own, much less walk. Once again, Mac buried his face in Jack's shoulder as he was carried downstairs. He absolutely would not make eye contact with anyone, especially his team. He could them calling his name, but he could feel Jack shaking his head. Luckily, they seemed to get the message, at least for now. Mac heard several gasps coming from people he hadn't heard before, and could only assume it was the people who worked for that man who had taken him. Evidently they didn't know what their boss was up to in his spare time. Despite everything, that thought brought Mac the smallest of grins. He didn't know why. Something about that was just oddly amusing to him. At least he would never see them again.

Soon enough, Jack was gently laying Mac down in the back of a car. It wasn't any car he was familiar with, so it was probably either a rental or Phoenix issue. As much as he hated to physically disconnect from Jack, he was thankful that it was only them going to the hospital, and not the whole team. He just wasn't ready for them to see him yet.

Due to Jack's dangerous driving, they had arrived at the closest hospital in fifteen minutes, which seemed much faster to Mac than it should have been, but he wasn't about to complain. Jack quickly made his way around to pick Mac back up in his arms, and carried him through the doors, where a medical team had been notified ahead of time and was waiting for them.

Jack set Mac down on the gurney they had brought, but held on to Mac's hand. Mac appreciated that more than he would say. Everything was swirling around him, and not just in a there's-a-lot-going-on way. The lack of food in his system for several days was finally starting to catch up on him, and Mac thought he was about to pass out again.

"Jack," he said, searching for his partner's face. He didn't want to be left alone with the medical staff, even if they were just doing their jobs.

"It's okay, bud, I'm not goin' anywhere," he replied, holding Mac's hand with both of his. Mac just stared at him as long as he could, while his eyelids got heavier and heavier. The last thing he saw was what looked like Jack's eyes filling with tears.


	16. Place of Sorrow

**AN: We are nearing the end of the fic. There's probably only gonna be about two more chapters after this, I think. Medical inaccuracies abound because I am no med student. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

* * *

Jack couldn't stop himself. The moment Mac passed out and the doctors wheeled him away, refusing to let Jack go with them, he couldn't stop the tears from falling. As his hand slipped from Mac's much smaller one, the first tear fell, and he had to excuse himself to the bathroom. Jack closed the stall door and took a deep breath. He had his kid back, it was going to be okay, but still, even as he closed his eyes, a few more tears still fell. Yes, Mac was back, and likely would heal physically - although Jack was worried about the kid's leg - but how long would it take for him to be okay emotionally? The kid had been through hell. He'd suffered extreme abuse at the hands of his captors, and that wasn't something that one could just get over in a matter of a few days.

He just couldn't believe that it had happened. Yeah, they went through a lot in their line of work, but this? This was something Jack didn't ever think he would have to help Mac heal from. He shouldn't have to. This never should've happened. Jack banged his fist against the stall. This was all his fault. If only he'd run after Mac and not let him run into that damn bank by himself, none of this would've happened. He hit the stall again, cursing loudly. It was a good thing he was alone. He shouldn't have killed Phelps. That was too good for him. He should've shot the hand that was holding that damn remote that he used to hurt Mac. He should've shot him in the shoulder for good measure, and maybe in the groin too. Maybe then Phelps would've felt some of the same pain he put Mac through. After he had shot him several times, then, and only then, would he slowly strangle the man, and watch the terror in his eyes as he died, slowly. Only then would Phelps have understood the pure terror that Mac had experienced for days.

Jack took a deep breath and shook his head. Maybe it was a good thing that his Delta instincts to neutralize the threat had taken over so quickly. A show like that probably would've scared Mac, and that was the last thing Jack wanted to do.

He could only hope that the medical staff at the hospital were able to get that damn collar off his kid. Jack had looked at it as best he could while Mac was holding on to him, and saw no easy way to get it off. He hadn't wanted to hurt the boy, so he begrudgingly left it on until someone smarter could get it off. Damn. He should've kept Phelps alive long enough to ask him.

Jack ran his fist into the stall again, now cursing the very Delta instincts he had been praising only a moment earlier. No matter what he did, Mac always ended up getting hurt. It wasn't fair. That kid deserved so much better than Jack could ever give to him, but he would be damned if he didn't try to be everything the kid needed.

Jack's moment of self-deprecation was broken by the buzz of his phone. It was a text from Riley, asking if Jack could meet them at the main entrance to the hospital. After taking a final deep breath to regain his composure, Jack replied that he could, and stepped out of the stall. He splashed his face with cold water from the sink, and took a look in the mirror. In the past week he'd put on twenty years. Somehow, Mac was the opposite. The blond had looked every bit a kid when he'd found him. A terrified kid who just wanted to go home.

Sighing, Jack turned around and left, quickly making his way back to the hospital entrance. It was time to be ready to comfort his family.

Upon arriving in the lobby, Riley immediately ran up to him.

"Jack," she said, "why didn't you let me see him? Is he gonna be okay?" she asked, sounding on the verge of tears. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold, despite the warm temperature outside.

"Of course, Riles," Jack replied. "He's gonna be fine. He just didn't want anyone else to see him in there, like that. But you can see him as soon as the doctors have him settled in a room, okay?" Riley let out a shaky breath, but nodded. "Now come on, let's get back up the waiting room."

Jack led the way for the four of them, but didn't miss the way that Bozer put his arm around Riley to comfort her. Normally, the girl would be shrugging off any attempts at comfort, being the independent young woman she was, but in this case, Jack wasn't surprised that she accepted the comfort Bozer offered. The two had an interesting relationship, but a strong one, and Jack was glad that Bozer was there for her, even though the younger man was scared himself.

Sitting down in the hard chairs of the waiting room, Jack couldn't stop his leg from bouncing with nervous energy. He knew the others wanted to know anything he could tell them about Mac, but it wasn't Jack's story to tell. If Mac ever wanted to tell them what Phelps did to him, then that was his decision, not Jack's. Still, he couldn't help but notice the looks that Bozer kept giving him, as if he were expecting Jack to tell him everything. But Jack could only sit there, hoping Mac was okay.

* * *

Several hours later - Jack had stopped counting after three - the familiar name was finally called across the waiting room.

"Family of Angus MacGyver?" asked a woman with short, blond hair with darker roots. Jack immediately stood up and made his way over to her, quickly followed by Matty. Riley was asleep with her head on Bozer's shoulder, and the man wasn't about to get up and disturb her until absolutely necessary.

"How is he?" Jack rushed out, not waiting for the doctor to speak first.

"Well, all of the bones in his knee are broken, some worse than others, and there are many torn ligaments, but the surgery went well. His knee will never be quite as strong as it used to be, but he should make a full recovery. His wrists have been treated and wrapped, and should be fully healed within two weeks, assuming it stays infection free. However, we'll be closely monitoring for it. The electrocution didn't cause any lasting damage, and we were able to remove the collar. As for the..." she paused, as if choosing her words carefully, "abuse, he endured, physically he will recover from that as well. Our main concern is his mental health at this point. I'm going to be frank with you," she sighed, looking from Jack to Matty. "Most male rape victims struggle with PTSD afterwards, and substance abuse is very common. He needs to be watched carefully to ensure that he doesn't try to hurt himself." The woman looked down at her clipboard, almost like she was purposely trying to avoid their gaze. Jack didn't blame her. He figured he probably looked every bit the wreck he was, and that was hard for people to deal with. Matty just looked pissed off.

"Okay, thank you," Matty said, her polite voice the exact opposite of the fury blazing in her eyes. "Can we see him?"

"He should still be asleep for now, but yes. You can follow me."

The doctor waited while Jack quickly woke Riley and alerted Bozer, filling them in on Mac's condition as they walked. Jack never did quite get used to the smell of hospitals. He didn't mind it that much when he was the one on the mend, but when it was his kid who was hurt, the smell always seemed overpowering. The stark white walls were too bright, and the constant buzzing of all the equipment and the PA system gave him a headache. He hated it.

And there he was. Mac was lying so still in his hospital bed, so small, and alone, and it broke Jack's heart. The clothes Mac had been brought in with were folded and lying on the chair, and the damn collar was in a bag sitting underneath. The staff knew it would need to be kept as evidence, due to the nature of what had happened to Mac. It didn't take much for anyone to figure out that a crime had taken place.

Jack walked right up to Mac and brushed some stray blond hairs away from his forehead. Riley joined him at kid's side with an utterance of "oh, Mac." Bozer was a bit slower, still not as used to seeing Mac this way as the rest of them were. But still, soon enough, he too had walked up to the bed, and rested a hand on Mac's good leg. The kid's bad leg was fulled braced and elevated. Matty walked around to the blond's other side and rubbed his shoulder, sorrow on her face. It wasn't a look Jack was used to seeing on Matty. The woman was always so composed, even when she was furious. Her anger could be terrifying, but her grief was even worse. She looked how Jack felt.

The four stood around Mac, none of them saying anything. What were they supposed to say? After everything that happened to Mac, what were they honestly supposed to say, even to each other? There were no words that could accurately convey what had happened to the kid, and there were no words that they could comfort each other with either.

Eventually, they all pulled some chairs up and sat in for the long wait. Mac didn't wake up at all the first day they were there. That didn't surprise the doctors, given that they had purposely given Mac a dose of anesthesia high enough that he would remain unconscious throughout the day. They wanted him to get some good rest due to the trauma he had endured.

No one was supposed to be allowed to stay throughout the nights, but since Matty was in fact the director of a covert government agency, she was able to pull some strings and get Jack permitted to stay. She, Riley, and Bozer, would have to go to a hotel each night, while Jack would be allowed to stay in the unused bed. No one else would be using that room, due to the nature of what had happened to Mac.

When Mac awoke, it was like he was waking from a dream. Jack was nearly asleep himself, having been resting his head on Mac's bed while he held the boy's hand, instead of leaving to sleep in the other bed. When Mac started twitching, Jack could feel it.

"Mac?" he said, giving the kid's hand an encouraging squeeze. "Come on, buddy."

Mac started making little whimpers that broke Jack's heart, but what he mumbled shattered it.

"Stop, it hurts, please..." he muttered, his head moving ever so slightly.

"It's okay, you're safe, you're with me," Jack said in an attempt to wake Mac up. He reached up and brushed some of Mac's hair to the side in a move that would have been comforting in any other situation, but seemed to terrify the kid in this one.

Mac flinched back from Jack's touch, saying, "no, please no, don't touch me, please no, please, please stop."

"It's okay, kiddo, it's just Jack, I promise you're safe." Jack didn't know what to do. It had never been this difficult to wake the kid up from a nightmare before. Was it the drugs that were making this so hard? Jack just wanted his kid to wake up and know that he was okay. Jack pressed the call button and hoped a nurse would get there quickly. Luckily, she did.

"Is everything okay?" she asked gently.

"He's in a nightmare, and I can't get him to wake up. Is it because of the drugs?" Jack asked. He didn't really care, he just hoped the nurse could fix it. The moment Mac cried out again in his sleep, the nurse rushed over and started messing with some machines and his IV. Jack had no idea what she was doing, but as long as it worked, he didn't mind.

Only a moment later, Mac's eyes flew open, and quickly filled with tears. The nurse walked away, but Mac's eyes followed her out, then frantically flew around the room until they landed on Jack.

"Jack?" he said, not breaking eye contact as the few tears began to fall.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, buddy," Jack replied, once again taking Mac's hand in his. "You're okay. I'm right here, and I'm never gonna let that man hurt you ever again. Everything is gonna be okay, kiddo." Jack rubbed his other hand along Mac's too skinny arm, trying to give him as much contact as he could without scaring him. He didn't know how much physical contact Mac would be okay with after what happened to him.

"How-," he stopped, clearing his throat. "How long was I out?" Mac asked, gripping Jack's hand with one of his, and wiping his tears away with the other. He then rubbed at his neck, and seemed to relax after noticing that the collar was gone, but only slightly. He quickly found the bandage placed over the burns the prongs had given him, but he left it alone after finding no loose ends on the tape.

"About twenty-four hours, but by the looks of things, you needed the rest." Mac nodded, but didn't say anything, so Jack continued. "They've got you on a feeding tube now, that's why your throat feels weird. But the doctors say you're gonna be okay. They're gonna check your wrists a lot for infection, but you should be able to leave in a few days." Jack didn't know what else to say. He knew Mac would want to get home as soon as possible, but there wasn't any speeding up the process of getting nutrients back into his starved body.

"Okay," Mac muttered, looking away from Jack. "Are you okay?" he asked so quietly that Jack had to strain to hear it.

"Me? Of course I'm okay. You're the one who's been to hell and back, bud," Jack replied. The question made him nervous, but he tried to play it off by playfully bumping Mac's good leg.

"Okay, I just-," he broke off, only briefly meeting Jack's gaze before letting his eyes roam around the room again. "I know you've been through a lot too, so I needed to make sure," he said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He sounded almost as if he were embarrassed. Mac made eye contact with Jack again, but broke it off when he was overtaken by a large yawn.

"You better get some more rest, bud. You need it."

Mac looked up at him, a bit of fear in his eyes. Jack knew exactly what the kid was afraid of, and he knew how to fix it.

"Do you want me to climb up with you? Because I will if you need me to. You don't have to ask me twice," Jack said as gently as he could, almost as if he were talking to a skittish horse and not his partner.

Mac looked back at him, briefly meeting his gaze before his eyes filled with tears again. He gave a few shaky nods before squeezing his eyes shut tightly and turning away.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, kid. Absolutely nothing," Jack said as he carefully laid down next to Mac. He gently wiped away his tears, giving him a small smile when he turned his head back to face him. "It's okay," he whispered. Mac closed his eyes as a few more tears fell, and nuzzled his head as far into Jack as he could with his leg elevated, which kept his body in a bit of an awkward position. Jack swung an arm around the kid and held him tight. Maybe he wasn't enough to keep him safe from real monsters, but he would be damned if he didn't keep his kid safe from the ones inside his own head.

Jack held Mac and let out a deep breath he didn't know he had been holding in. He knew it was going to be a long road for Mac, and all he could do was pray that what he did would be enough.


	17. On the Mend

**AN: It's almost over. This is the last real chapter. Next is the epilogue. I like this chapter, but I also don't like it. I hope you enjoy though, and please leave a review!**

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The next few days at the hospital passed slowly. No matter why he was there, Mac always hated it. A hospital would always be the place where his mother died. It would always be where he held her hand as she took her last breath, where he cried and screamed for her to come back, to wake up, not to leave him, where his father had yelled and screamed at him that she was gone and was never coming back. A hospital would always be where his father changed forever, where he started treating Mac coldly, stopped spending time with him, stopped caring about him, started yelling at him more, blaming him, ignoring him. So, no matter what, Mac hated hospitals. He understood all the good that could happen there, but that could never overshadow the pain of his mother's death.

What had happened to him during his captivity only made everything worse. Physically, he was getting better - they had removed the feeding tube, which was an incredibly uncomfortable experience, and everything was healing well - but emotionally, he was barely holding it together. It didn't help that everyone was walking on eggshells around him. That was understandable, of course, but still. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were, but he knew that maybe that wasn't exactly possible. Whenever someone touched him and he wasn't expecting it, he flinched. Whenever people would talk about him like he wasn't in the room, he was back in that dark basement, being spoken of as nothing more than property, nothing more than a slave. And of course, every time that Mac thought maybe he was getting better, something would set him off and he would have a panic attack, and he would be reminded how damaged, how broken he was.

Everyone saw it. They looked at him differently, and that was probably the worst part of it. Of course, they were all ecstatic to see him again, but Mac could see the pity in their eyes. He didn't want their pity. He just wanted things to be normal again. But it wouldn't be normal until Mac was normal, and he wasn't so sure he ever would be. Every night he woke up screaming, and Jack would always have to calm him down and hold him the rest of the night while he cried. Jack claimed he didn't mind, but Mac always felt guilty. The man was always just as exhausted as Mac, and that wasn't fair to him. But Mac just couldn't stop the nightmares, and he couldn't hide how much comfort Jack gave him. After waking from a nightmare, scared out of his mind, he was never able to stop himself from latching onto Jack. Mac was sure that one of these days, Jack would get tired of always being woken by his cries and having to deal with him needing that physical comfort. He was sure that one of these days Jack would leave in the night, too exhausted to deal with the broken boy Mac had become. And Mac wouldn't blame him. He deserved to be left. All he ever did was annoy people. He couldn't expect them to stay forever. Mac was only surprised that Jack hadn't left yet. He'd stayed longer than anyone ever had - except for maybe Bozer, but Mac was sure he would leave eventually too.

But he hadn't. No matter how many times he woke Jack up with his screams, all Jack ever did was hold him and promise him that he was safe, that nothing was going to happen to him, that Phelps could never hurt him again. And he promised to stay. Maybe Mac didn't really believe that he really would stay, but still, sometimes he was almost convinced that Jack really was going to stay. He'd never seen the man break a promise. Never. Not even once. Jack was a man of his word through and through. When he promised something, he meant it. So maybe, just maybe, if he promised Mac that he was never leaving, he never would.

One night, after a particularly bad nightmare, he asked. It was an accident, he was just rambling because sometimes he did that after a nightmare when he didn't know what else to do, but in his ramblings, he accidentally asked, "are you really gonna stay?"

Jack had been surprised, asking, "what do you mean 'am I really gonna stay?' I'm never leaving you, not now, not ever."

"But all I do is make life harder for you. You shouldn't have to put up with that, Jack. I'm so sorry that I'm so selfish and want you to stay, but you don't have to. I know you'd be better off without me, I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry," Mac cried, dropping his head as tears began to fall. Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he hold it together for five freaking minutes? No wonder his dad left him, why everyone left him. He was too weak.

But Jack pulled Mac closer to him, which was impressive considering that Mac was already as pressed against him as he could be in the hospital bed. Still, Jack had wrapped his arms even more tightly against him and pulled Mac's head to his chest.

"Oh, Mac. Mac, kid, none of that is true. You are the least selfish person I know, okay?" Jack affirmed, keeping a tight grip on Mac so he couldn't take his head off Jack's chest. "Now listen to that, alright? Listen to my heartbeat. Feel it. Feel how steady and sure it is. I am my heartbeat in your life. I am steady, and sure, and never leaving you. As long as this heart beats, I am not leaving you-"

"But you deserve better, Jack. You deserve a partner who's strong, who isn't so weak, someone who can take things like this, not someone like me," Mac interrupted. Finally, Jack pulled away, like Mac knew he would.

"You have never been so wrong," Jack said, taking a gentle hold of Mac's face, forcing him to meet his eyes. "I am the one who should be apologizing for letting this happen to you-"

"No, none of this is your fault-"

"Let me finish, bud. No one in the world could handle what happened to you well. It's not like you were in some minor car accident. You were kidnapped, and hurt in unimaginable ways. And you have been handling this better than anyone could, okay?" he said, keeping steady eye contact with Mac the whole time. "You are not weak. You are one of the strongest people I know. You are strong, and you are worth it. I know that nearly everyone important in your life has left you, but kid, I swear on my dad's grave, that I am never leaving you. _Never._ Do you understand me?" he asked, putting on hand on Mac's shoulder.

Mac looked up at him, tears once more filling his eyes. Jack never swore on his dad's grave lightly. That was the most serious oath Jack could give. That meant that he really did mean it, that he really never would leave him.

"You-you're really never leaving?" Mac asked, confused. Maybe the drugs he was being given were messing with him. There was no way that all of this was real.

"Never," Jack replied, looking Mac straight in the eyes. There was only truth in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," Mac said again, once again reaching out to bury his face in Jack's chest. "I'm sorry for doubting you, for everything. I'm so sorry."

"Oh, kid," Jack said, reaching up and gently running his fingers through Mac's hair. "You have nothing to apologize for." He held Mac close, just holding him. It was a surprise, but one Mac would be forever grateful for.

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The next morning, things were a little different. Mac was supposed to be released that day, and his whole team was excited. But that wasn't what made it different. Mac was just trying to look at things differently. Now that he truly believed Jack would never leave him, things were looking up. He still felt bad for Jack that he kept waking him in the night, but he was trying not to. Every time he apologized, Jack made sure he knew it was okay. He was finally getting better.

Everyone seemed to notice too. They all kept telling him how much better he was looking, and their eyes were brighter too. Bozer was back to his real joking self, not the fake joking persona where he was clearly trying too hard to act normal. When he looked at Mac, the blond no longer saw pity in his eyes, but soft sadness at what had happened to him, and joy that he was okay. Or maybe, that's the way Bozer had been looking at him the whole time, and it was only now that Mac was seeing it that way.

Riley and Matty were much the same. They were always giving him gentle smiles that he now saw as them truly caring about him, instead of seeing them as fronts they put up. They were more careful about touching him, which Mac appreciated, but it was getting easier to handle it. He knew they wouldn't hurt him, and they never once gripped him the way that Phelps had. They never once looked at him like an object for their personal pleasure. They looked at him like he was their friend, their little brother.

Finally, Mac was discharged from the hospital with strict instructions not to put any weight on his leg for six weeks, then endure weeks of physical therapy. As much as Mac hated that idea, it was better than staying in the hospital, and Jack continually assured him that he would be with him through it all.

Maybe it was because he was finally out of the hospital, but on the flight back to LA, Mac didn't wake up screaming or crying. That's not to say his dreams were good, because dreaming of Phelps or the robbers was never good, but it was bearable. Of course, it didn't hurt that Jack held him throughout the whole flight too.

Upon arriving back in LA, Mac had an unexpected visitor. After getting off the Phoenix jet, there was a familiar face waiting in the hangar, escorted by two policemen. It was Dean.

"What are you doing here?" he asked the man, staying behind Jack and looking at the man with trepidation.

"I wanted to apologize in person, so your boss pulled some strings," he said. Mac glanced over at Matty, who gave him a gentle smile in return.

"...okay," he replied. He still wasn't sure how to take this. This was one of the men who had kidnapped him, who had let him be sold to a foreign millionaire as a slave. Yes, he had never outright treated him cruelly, and had helped him in the barest of ways, but still.

"So, I'm sorry," he started, looking at the ground before looking up at Mac. "I am so, so sorry. You didn't deserve any of what happened to you, and I'm so sorry that I didn't do anything to stop it like I should have. I'm sorry for everything. I knew what Phelps was going to do to you, and didn't try to stop him from taking you, and now you have to live with that for the rest of your life. I am so, so sorry," he said.

Mac only stared at him for a moment, unable to say anything. Dean sounded truly sincere, and Mac doubted Matty would've pulled the strings to get him there if she didn't believe he was. Still, this was something new to Mac, and he was unsure of how to process all of it. But, there was one thing he did know.

Looking Dean in the eyes, Mac replied, "I forgive you." He couldn't forgive the rest of them quite yet, but he could forgive Dean. And maybe, in time, he could forgive the rest of them too.

With a small smile, Mac moved out from behind Jack and made his way to their waiting car. He couldn't wait to get home. Jack quickly followed, helping him into the car, then getting into the driver's seat.

"I'm proud of you," he said, putting his hand on Mac's shoulder. "I am so proud of you."

Mac didn't know how to respond, so he only blushed and shrugged his shoulders in reply.

Jack smiled. "So, you're first meal as a free man. What do you want?" he asked. That struck Mac by surprise. He'd forgotten that now he was out of the hospital, he could eat whatever he wanted. He knew he should avoid certain things until his stomach was ready to accept all regular food again, but still, he had a lot of options open to him.

"Steak," he said with a grin. He figured some protein would be a good choice.

"Of course," Jack chuckled. The man quickly texted Riley, who would let the others know where they were going, then started the car. "Steak it is."

It was the best steak Mac had ever eaten.


	18. Epilogue

**"And now, the end is near, and so I face, the final curtain." At long last, here it is. The end. This is the first multi-chapter fic I have ever completed, so this is quite the accomplishment for me. I have had so much fun writing this and sharing it with you guys, throughout all the love and even the haters. It's been incredible, and I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing. I hope you've loved reading as much as I've loved writing. I love you all so much. I already have several other multi-chapter fics in the works, but my next fic will be a long one shot dealing with Mac's fear of heights. For the last time, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!**

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It had been three months since Jack had rescued Mac from Phelps. There had been good days, where Mac was almost his normal self, laughing and joking around with the rest of them like nothing had ever happened. But there had been bad days too, where Mac woke up screaming and flinched at every touch, retreating so far back into himself that Jack wasn't sure he would ever come out. But, that was to be expected. Mac had been through a lot, and couldn't be expected to be okay every day. Overall, he was doing very well, and he was about to be cleared for field work. The one thing he was nervous about was his psyche eval.

"You can do this, Mac," Jack said, resting his hands on the boy's shoulders as the two stood in the Phoenix hallway. He had already passed his physical, and although he would be taking on much simpler missions for the next month and completed more rehab, his leg was strong enough that it wouldn't be an issue. But he wasn't confident in himself for the psyche test.

"But Jack, I still wake screaming sometimes, and so often I still need you every minute," Mac insisted. "What if I fail it?"

"Then you fail it," Jack bluntly replied. Mac looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to elaborate. "Life goes on, and you'll take it again in a few weeks. You're ready when you're ready. You can't rush this process, kid. You have to wait it out. It's okay if you don't pass it, okay?"

"But I want to go back in the field," Mac said, almost whining like a petulant teenager. It made Jack smile.

"I want that for ya too, bud. And you will, when you're ready. It's gonna be okay, I promise."

Mac took a deep breath, looking away from Jack before meeting his eyes again and nodding. "Okay," he said.

"Agent MacGyver?" asked a voice from a barely open door next to them. "We're ready for you," she said as she swung the door open more, revealing a table with three other people sitting behind it. Jack could see Mac taking another deep breath, and glancing at Jack.

"You've got this, kid," he whispered. "I'll be right here when you're done, okay?"

Mac nodded, then turned and walked into the room, politely greeting the others in the room. Jack smiled, he knew Mac could do this. Now it was just time to wait. He sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, as he pulled his phone out. He would sit there playing Flappy Bird until Mac was done. Riley had managed to get him the game because he loved it - hated it - so much. It frustrated him to no end, but it made time seem to slip away.

Soon enough, a while later, the door opened. Jack immediately turned to see the expression on Mac's face when he walked out. Jack grinned. The kid was going to be just fine.

THE END


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